Wanderings of an Idle Mind

It’s funny how
in my mind
the words effortlessly
string into cohesive sentences of
– dare I say –
linguistic superiority.

But when I get down to writing
them all down,
the fluidity escapes me.

A blank mind ensues.

to say the least.

The writer’s mind
only seems to function
while poised in a horizontal state.

I believe
the thoughts of my children,
my sometimes meaningless existence,
this exceptionally long streak of bad,
were supposed to be topics
to be touched upon.

Yet I can’t be sure.

Supposedly about everything,
yet nothing of utmost importance.

The wanderings of an idle mind.
Devil’s playground,
they say.


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