Too tired to think
much less to write a poem
worth any reader's time
I set my fingers
free to play on the computer keys
curious to see
what they might do
mostly nothing it seems
rather like waiting
for the planchette
to move across the Ouija board
hello? is anybody there?
best be prepared
for who or what might surface
from thin air
or from the source
we term unconscious
thereby revealing
a certain prejudice
but so far
no voice from the underworld
no muse impatient
for my musing fingers
to press down
on the keys
and form the words
she'd choose for me
only this tired babbling
time now to let it go
and go to sleep