I think my brain is melting
it’s making quite a mess
every time I click my pen
I leak out on my desk

I’d wipe it up with paragraphs
and turn the page anew
but suddenly I’m drowning in
a hippocampus brew

Sometimes it’s like a faucet,
I can turn it off and on
or else it’s like a hurricane,
or sprinkler on the lawn

such unrestrainability
I deal with every day
I cannot dam this language lake--
it spills and stains the page!

and the flow of inspiration
will seep through rusty pipes
it doesn’t stop for heartache,
just congeals to terser type

I wonder if the doctors
could diagnose just what I do
I’d like to know what cogs control
my constant mental spew

but even if they named it
and found a perfect cure
I’d rather steep a while more
in my literate liqueur.