George Costanza's Dream

An Architect of words  
Some to delight Some to disturb
Building all the time  
A 24/7 mind  
Delicately placing syllables  
Laying them down,concrete of a builder.
Constant orgasmic sentences  
erupt and seep out,
Only to be wiped out with the stroke of a button.
The ones that stick, like your man
paste
create a new life , breathing , needing , feeding your pleasure of ego and self.
Frost must have felt the coldness  
of That Snowy Night  
All words came out right,
I can only dream of a construction so solid,
One that can last a decade and a mile.