What better way

To welcome a new day,

Than with good conversation

and sleep deprivation?

How do you like my two second poetic vomit?  I'm certainly no Tennyson or Joyce, but quite possibly I could be a Seuss. 

The day was great

But I was late

Again. Still, coffee please

or else I don't see

Myself working this eight hour shift.

I'm in the writing mood,

but the fun writing mood

not the good writing mood.  

But a mood is a mood

is a mood is a mood. 

If I write with a mood,

And it doesn't matter which mood,

It's all gonna be good,

Gonna be a good mood. 

You know what I'm saying, dude?

There. Over there.

Papers flying left 

And scratch pieces crawling

Right.  All over my face,

In my space, and air.

Emerson said what? 

Thoreau threw a pen.

The Light Brigade went the wrong way

much to everyone's dismay.

And paragraphs inch out.

Dot dot dot dot dot....

"Quotations"

Citations? 

A Minute a letter,

A word an hour,

but no more.

What did he say again?

The words

s p l a   t t   e       r

a     n d s p    l at    t e  r

all over the page

all over the page

all overt hepa ge

allove rthep age

alloverthepage.

Ah, already that time I see.

Ink on my cheek

I slobbered

.

.

.

And the cursor blinks

with stupid i's

and a blank expression

all

over

the

page.