“My Brain Hums with Scraps of Poetry and Madness”

Fried pressure cooking of brain stimulating excruciating fissures of thought nomadic in action but latently still mind numb to the madness no money to shill a thrill or two or three or four five times I knocked and still you won’t answer the door leaving with my tail between my legs moon laughing and winking and spitting on twigs

*this writing was prompted by the quote in the title which is from Virginia Woolf