Writer’s Block
How easily my words came
Bean-sprouting from my brain
They river-flow with smooth agility over rocks,
Passing fish in the rapids as they go
Pressing against the spider webs of mental blocks
Or unmoving, stand with word-weapons drawn,
With foolish demonstrations
Of angst or love
Needing to say what I feel
Like a sensation-word junky,
A would be fantasy fool,
My sanity hiding in a corner and near-never intact.
