eyes are flicky
fingers itchy
scratchy brain where my words think from
jaw is catchy
make mine sticky

must i eat now
space not to write
for my kids sleep drags too slowly
where can i hide
words must come out

suck like quicksand
watch them tumble
onto the screen in order some-
how unjumbled
delightful and

vaporous
yet
dripping
hope

Please excuse my word-spew. I’ve hardly grasped the space to story (let alone blog) this week, but not for want of inspiration.