the best poems I write in my head, in the shower, hot water & soap-slathered body makes perfect unison, allows the mind for beautiful words, but after clothes are worn and hair is declogged from drain, like steam the verses have evaporated, even their essence cannot be recalled, only the fact that I was struck with momentary genius & spoke clarity into the bathroom. lost now is that genius, left only is the emotional vestige as hurried mind & hand attempt to trace back the words that can almost save humanity.










