She stands there
blank page in front of her
it’s madness
what she does
plucks one idea
from the thickness
of millions
stacking words on top of it
like a child
or some demented engineer
such a strange thing
this species grown
from one recipe
made the same way
each time
that we should dare
to grow stories
without rules
or a map
trusting
the tornado
of imagination
is enough.