I dash in the door
breathless
nose running
apace with my feet
purse bruising my hip
as it jostles
bounces
riding in grooves
immutably shoulder ingrained
scraping the peel
from my pumpkin skin
bells are chiming
in all the clocktowers
summoning me
hitching my ride
on the witching hour
elbows fiercely pumping
I must, I must
I must write or bust
warrior word wizardry
diurnal commitment
I think I can
I think I can
I think I can
I chug uphill
slowly, brain smoking
inky black and smoky
fragments overshadow
conceptual constellations
don’t look!
my words
may burn your eyes
white rabbit scampers
mutters
mad hatters