search every impulse

set of keys lost

 

can’t trust the thought 

enslaved to a slime-mold boss

 

tear up the canvas 

attack the critics

 

fear the latest experiment 

seen as a predictable plot

 

she wanted a home with a garden

he felt it was time to be an adult

 

up at three am with chocolate 

sketching out the novel

 

specialization specialists 

explaining your inclinations 

 

broken chemical equations 

earning more than you’ve lost

 

fighting to your last breath

arm wrestling the hand of god

 

plunging deep out of your depths

where you’re not meant to have gone