i was walking along the other day
and talking to myself
like anyone else does
when there’s no one else to talk to
and so I asked myself,
“where do your poems come from?”
and i answered,
“from the acupuncture jolts,
feet to spine to mind and
onto scrap paper or into a stranger’s ear”
but where do they really come from?
like the science of it all?
hell if I know,
but i keep walking anyway…
words by Steve, broken bats