Up and up and overhead
Fly the words I wish I'd said
Buried deep in tangled thought
Lie the ideas I forgot
Forms of what I meant to say
Stuck inside a tangled grey
Cloud of neurons intertwined
Wrapped inside my conscious mind

Layered patterns disappear
When the right ideas are near
Bubbling like surface steam
Nascent inspiration gleams
Tattered bits of baffled self
Must be left upon a shelf
For they have no service here
When the streams are crystal clear

Though this marsh is growing still
Still's the air with arid will
Underneath a craggy tree
Roots dig into shallow sea
Hanging in the humid air
Grounded neither here nor there
Like the dialog in me
It's not what it used to be