so this is what i learned at breakfast:
that the freakish zing of a very ripe strawberry
can break the flow of everything--
and to miraculously close the shocked eyes that  
so nearly electrocuted the brain  
reading the Baptist Standard about Ken Starr 
as a potentially great president for Baylor...
gawdamighty, what a fookin disaster.


mouth and mind agape, the strawberry as catalyst,
suddenly jumping up are letters in strings
spewing from some thin corner where sits
my muse of rare inklings and mystic wisdoms.


panic. no writing tools naturally 
habituate the kitchen bar,
so nothing comes to hand for catching 
wild tribes of raucous lines
racing like monkeys over the canopy of mind 
without a backward glance.


all gone, only the receding tails
of epic lines that came once, whole 
an english major's paradise lost 
for want of a pencil stub 
and the back of an envelope.


even tho i had been only 
a lowly music major, 
now i was mad,
so i ordered an ipad. 
and i think i'll name it 
the jabberwok strawberry.
and wouldna joyce be pleased?