dip a pen into the well of yourself
you never know what hitches a ride
on the underside of a feeling and turns the
simple plan of a plot into a desert chase through
bleak valleys up mountains to forks and bends
that uncover jungle doors caves secret waterfalls
with many ideas in the party dying along the way
or those that just give up and head back home
with luck comes a find of treasure and to those who have come with you perhaps a smile or fist pump the long whistle of an impressive sigh
poetry is the business of unreliable guides
spotty tips and frequent dead-ends and from my
experience the opening of far too many empty chests buried deep in the sand