Pen

my pen is
poised above
the paper.
waiting.
the blank white
void
penetrates my thoughts.

it cracks a hole in my
brain.
a trickle of words
drips
down.
splashes of images
land
ink spots stain.

why?
creativity oozes
out my ears, crawls
from beneath my
skin.
my fingernails itch,
hands tremor.

how?
an overflow of scenery
dribbles from the
brimming mind.
it rushes in through my
eyes,
out through my
nerves.

energy buzzes around my
head.
flustered. hand
cramp!
eraser marks smear.
not that …
this.