The creatures in my bruised, black brain

are

dancing, jumping, dancing, leaping,
rolling, wrestling, never sleeping,
singing, yelling, shouting, laughing,
screaming jokes 'tween spurts of clapping,
waging war against my senses,
driving busses through my fences,
roaring, screeching, buzzing, spewing,
taking, leaving, taking, doing,
trampling footprints in grey matter,
blasting hours of senseless chatter,
rifling, ripping, bending, tearing,
dropping, breaking, losing, scaring,
taking all my hard-won thoughts and
shovel'ing them in chipped clay pots,
digging, sifting, slinging, dumping,
scooping, throwing, flinging, humping,
digging holes in all my plans,
carting off ideas in cans,
turning cartwheels, tumbling, flipping,
climbing, falling, sticking, slipping!

Those pesky little brain-mite bugs

are

making me FRANTIC!