I dread the moment
Inspiration hits
Water still trickling
Soap suds dripping
I pause, eyes wide
Stanzas forming unbidden
On a screen midair
Though my facsimile of
Technology is of
No aid to me there
I hurriedly try to rinse and
Slosh out of the stream
Reading and re-reading in my mind
RAM too limited to comply
Running laps in
A brain capable
Of saving only a few lines
I can sing them back
Rap the rhyme
An exercise that’s always futile
A jumble of half-formed stanzas
Ideas thrown in the drum
Like they were sent
Through a tumble dryer
Left to cool
Tangled and shrunken
Instead of crisp and arranged
All flapping on the line
K.B. Silver
About the Creator
K.B. Silver
K.B. Silver has poems published in magazine Wishbone Words, and lit journals: Sheepshead Review, New Note Poetry, Twisted Vine, Avant Appa[achia, Plants and Poetry, recordings in Stanza Cannon, and pieces in Wingless Dreamer anthologies.
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