Wordsmoker

my desk is officially fuddled
everything is muddled
strange things are huddled
and some just don’t belong,
there are post-it’s everywhere
little blank yellow stares
or written-slow-must-take-cares
with insight randomly
sometimes there

manic hieroglyphs
to be translated into sense,
some will fall,
and at the first fence

Read the rest of this entry →