Spilled Crap

 
Tossing out my circle net
I attempted to trap
words strewn across the wet
lake of disconnect
& lay down some crap.

Instead!
I lucidly lay awake,
sleep walked into
ink puddles created
by waves of thought
splashing over writer blocks
protecting this poet’s
shoreline.

I only sought to heal
and encourage with quill
stolen from a lifeguarding
feel and metaphors of
overkill.

Finger painted patches of brown
smeared across the canvas
so you might come down
write something that has us
awe and inspired.

It’s crap
(mine mostly)
on the parchment.