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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's the way inspiration hits.

Submitted: April 14, 2009

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Submitted: April 14, 2009



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I vomit words upon a page
And see their filth before me
It makes some sense in a way
But there’s a message
That I can’t see

I took a walk today
And thought about diarrhoea
The content in my head that is
Leaves little room for air
I couldn’t stop and stare

I grasped for the pen
I looked for the book
The trance overtook me
I threw down my soup
A minor distraction

No book
A computer
I’ll type it faster
Writing’s illegible
No one but me can read

It’s nourishing
I’m flourishing!
I pluck words from the air
And rearrange them however I want
On a plain white space

Now I feel drained
Now I feel spent
And now I cast away the pen
I rest but not for long
My diarrhoea returns
Three times strong

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