where do words come from
It was in the days of smoke
The morning noon and night smoke
Thinking thoughts brought on a weight
A bench press of the mind to form words.
Needing a bath of caffine to wash away
The dirt of wordlessness. But. . .
Remembering the transitions
Leads to the question
Whatwherewhy do the words come from?
And the answers come somehow
From the filthy wordlessness
But are they not words?
Leads the proper question: Whose?
Just supply the intent and be aware
Words come from the outside. Not me.
They are the product of pain. My pain.