the mind of a poet
is composed mainly of
metaphors. memories 
tucked away in dusty attic corners, 
scents that reek of sadness
and love. it is always full, 
always thoughtful,
almost always awake. 
conscious. 

poets digest more in their minds
than their stomachs. always chewing
chewing chewing on 
thoughts and words. always connecting
neurons to each other, 
composting every experience to
fertilize the mind. 
not always fruitful, but
always growing.