When the poet sleeps,
what then?
The other mind picks up
The pen,
Dips into the ink,
And then….
Chaos, ALL
the letters a-jumble,
no
Rhyme-or-Reason
(but a whole lot of rep-rep-rep-
etition)
The meter is empty, the metaphor
Has f l o w n the coop –
And where have all the chickens
gone?
They’re scratching at the ground
Searching for words
While the poet sleeps
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