8am

I wake in the morning with my mind jumping out of my head hitting the ground running.

I jump up and catch it to sniff it again.

The thoughts of my brain in sleep still lingers like the funk that grew in my mouth overnight.

I must write these down before I fully awake.

The smell of stale coffee and cigarettes waft throughout the house which is waking up my senses reordering the arrangement of operations causing it to be the best part of waking up 

But I need to get these thoughts down.

My dogs collar shakes off the morning dew and his dog tags clank in his forest of fir that

shines with tri color fancy.

The pool pump runs like I'm sitting in the baggage claim and the sound of the jumbo jets

sneak up through the carriage and out with the baggage that will not be claimed.

I need to get these ideas down but I wipe my eyes from the sleep to only see what is always there.

A blank keyboard dried with the flakes of crusty eye poo fallen from my lashes that

kept out the nights bed bugs.

I stare at my keyboard but nothing comes out, its 8 am.