Poetry (Day 4): Untitled

Untitledsurf

Sometimes
the title comes first;
a single image that starts
the journey.

Perhaps a malapropism,
to kiss things off.

A tautology can
get me moving, can
end my stasis.

It can be
a simple repetition to
poke and poke and poke
until the words gush forth.

Or a simile,
Like a golden nugget in my mind.

Alluring alliterations
might spark creativity,
letting thought-surfers
ride metaphorical waves
through astouding, sparkling
stupendous
caverns of hyperbole.

But tonight, I have nothing.
No image,
no inspiration,
no title.

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