Prolific writing
Streams of thought
Trickle from my swollen brain
Fingers punching
At the keyboard,
Some must think
That I’m insane
Filling up this worded
Window, floating above
The cluttered pane,
Perched here in the dark
And writing,
Surely I must be
Insane.
Writing here, I’m
Always writing, surely
Now I know the game,
So I think I’ll go
And put on Bowie
And listen to
A lad insane.
Sandra Osborne
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/music-to-write-by/
