Flow

I wrote this on the 17th, while on the coast, exhausted at about 1am. For some reason I thought I needed to write poetry…. This is what I didn’t come up with.

Poetry flows.
Mine doesn’t.
Mind blocked,
no ideas,
i write gibberish.
A long, unbroken line breaks things up but makes not a lot of sense.
Call this poetry?
Poetry flows.
Mine does.
Mind opened –
ideas!
Spewing gibberish.
Sense of lot a not makes, but up things break – a line unbroken, long.
Makes sense to me.
It flows.