When I walk
I walk in circles
When I write
I find my purpose
To spit free verses
To make something
Gold, and at best bronze
But without a doubt
I finish strong
Always on
But you know what
That’s not the truth
When I feel like this, yeah
I’m bullet proof
But as the moon improves
And gains a crest
I feel less and less
Till back again
I ebb and recede back into me,
And there I am, worthless again
But that’s the mania
Maybe the depression
But right now I’m level
Neither up and down
Drinking each word down
Like a gin and tonic
Drop Into the evening
And fall into the bottom
Swimming in the gin
Floating on a cocktail olive
But vermouth and gin
Nah, just gin and tonic
Who am I talking too
Who’s listening
Who’s watching
Who’s with me at this place
This figurative train station
Who’s here waiting
At the very very bottom
Singing for change
Waiting for my hands to stop shaking
Waiting for the spins to stop
Swaying through a day of boredom
Trying to stop the think tank
And get to the bottom of this
Thought in my memory bank

So far in this poem
I haven’t said a thing worth remembering
Is this an homage to Drinking
Or just a time waster
On the train writing
No punch lines no chasers

Just a poem on the way home
Another time waster
A written word puzzle
I made my self,
I am
the creator

Of Just a jagged thought
Written on digital paper