Brain Shot

I start out lucid, energized,
In my shiny silver helmet,
And flame-resistant leather suit,
Bright eyes and a cocky smile

Staring at the screen, fingers vibrating,
Ready to roar like a racecar,
Oh my God, oh my God, let loose!
I’m burning rubber on these keys.,

This goes on, round and round and round,
Writing, thinking, revising, writing more,
Then, I begin to brake and speed at the wrong times,
My good prose has sprung a leak,

It’s a long ride to delirium,
Screen red eyes, fingers and brain disconnected,
But the exigency slams me against the seat,
First draft, edit, second draft, edit!

Now, my racecar feels like an old worn shoe,
Cracked and leaky, with scratches,
A small hole in the soul,
Stepping out, my sock wet kisses the road.

It’s a silent walk now,
A long way home,
But I’m satisfied that I wrote a good race,
My emotions calm, my spirit at peace.