A Ravenous Toast

 

 

For those whom the pen tolls,
ravenous like Pavlov's dogs
who hear its bells and hunger, ...
We feel the urge and lose our slumber,
Rise from caves awakened
to focused and scatter
like a house of cards
in the verbed Saharas of our minds,
And beyond spent, may we love too long,
Content to be the blissful victims
of a red compulsion to creation
and expressions in the midst
of this sweltering chaotic breath....

Ravenous, am I.

© Arkay Evans 2014