I can’t seem to function these days
without the hot rush
of tea, without
the taste of inspiration
that fills the gut and sends
ideas spinning out of control
into a void in which
I pluck, grab and scramble
for a single notion.
Long dead
are the days when a beer,
a glassful of whisky
sipped at dawn, revolver shot
to the brain and imagination
crowded
would be the order of the day;
I miss that, I miss the insanity,
the belief that I could conquer all…