Here I am, sitting,
with all these words
in my tired head,
when I really should
be back in bed.
"What's so compelling?"
Someone once, asked of me.
To write down
these words, so completely,
before they become
a piece of your
imagined vision,
that was written clumsily,
without the precision,
of being a completely,
sloppy rendition
of words, all plastered
together with rapid
hands and fingers,
with no errors
that will linger.