I could not sleep that night.
I was in a room
With hundreds of vases
Of various shapes and sizes,
Labyrinthine designs,
Hues to defy rainbows.
Commanded to compose verses
To inscribe on every one,
Like straw into gold.
I slaved feverishly all night.
Hundreds of lines,
Thousands of words.
I cannot remember a single one!
Am I a poet
Or was it a dream?
Originally published in Medusa's Kitchen