My charger is the tune

My charger is the tune

Of the bumblebees of June –

They slider into me like serpents,

Distance me from the fragments

Of my wild imagination!

My head's buzzing with ideas,

Although this poorly created coat –

Which embraces my smoke –

Is tired. I fired

My gun more than enough times

To realize the value

Of the revealed subconscious

Can be powerful – sometimes.

My mind's pursuing a wicked game –  

Even though I can't blame Brain.

It puts out the fire with rain,  

Just to ignite it over again.

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