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.