Random Somethings

Poem By Kateh Shirk

Someone mentions a word,
which slows my mental blur
and causes my mind to stir.

The random something
starts the gears turning
and an idea starts forming.

But the motion halts
and the image fades and falters.
The process is adjusted and altered.

It comes back to me
and now I see
what the thought used to be.

I want to carry out the deed
and there's some object I need.
Alas, the subject feed

is cut off.
So now it becomes lost,
a longer remaining thought.

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