Constant flow without a show.

Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.

I’ve forgotten all the words

I don’t recall what I heard.

They’re seeping from the page

before I can thoroughly engage.

I’d catch them if I could

on the net, in a book,

but they come out oh so fast

and I can only see the last.

I taste them as they flow

a three course show

of delectable bites

and vivid sights.

I’m losing all my thoughts

all the dreams I have sought

what will I have left

I feel so utterly bereft.