Drought by Nigel

We dug deep into the bowels of my brain,

so we could careen through my consciousness
on a minecart,
planting neurotic sticks of
dynamite
in the darkest depths of my noxious imagination.

The resultant explosions killed thousands of innocent ideas.

Thus, depravity was blended into creativity,
reshaping our realm of relativity.

Waterfalls fail to flow
when there’s no rain;
forests fail to flourish
when there’s no rain;
flowers fail to frolic
when there’s no rain,
and words fail to fornicate,
fail to procreate and give birth to poetry,
when there’s no brain.

That’s the problem, isn’t it?

Too much rain, and not enough brain.
Too much precipitation, not enough creation.
Too much inspiration, not enough motivation.

– Nigel Ford

Photo:  Innocent Thunder Photography

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