of the mind, unlocked
doors lead
to questions—
some of which tend
to dead-end
at problems—problems
which the burly
charioteer,
possibly in-league
with his clever friend
the engineer,
work to a fever
pitch of effort
to resolve—til the poet,
ever floating
in that bath which fills
synaptic gaps,
chances
to stir from his open-
ended nap
to spill a few non
sequiturs, which
dissolves them.
