The hypnagogic state.
Do. Be. Do. Be. Do. Be.
I let it come to me.

I'll just turn everything sideways
and walk up the crossways
walk down me I'm a walkway

Flying practice!
Every moment is practice now.
The flow knows and so do I.

October comes
everything on beat!
laughter, suddenly you can call me

thank you for this new whitespace
this blank canvas
iteration.iteration.iteration.

does poetry always devolve
into a letter to a muse?
because I got it bad.