self-portrait (the spark)
-a spoken-word piece-

as a spoken word poet,
i saunter off on sundays
to scream from a soapbox
on the sidewalks.
stanzas scribbled out on sandpaper
are smoothed out for the stage.
i stitch thoughts together
then slide between the sheets
as i sleep.
it becomes my second skin
and i stick metaphors in my pen
for self-gratification,
it's better than sex.

... and more colorful
than saturday morning cartoons.
i spit like i'm superman -
swooping through the words
and fighting off the verbs
i've scratched out on small pieces of paper.

it obsesses me
and undresses me
from normal conversation
so i sit naked in a sea of ink stains
then swim through an endless stream of inspiration,
searching for the spark
that will help me start the process
over again.