My mind slips.
Thoughts go drip, drip, drip,
Like ice. It gets slick.
It all makes sense,
But gets lost on its way to the lips.
Either hyper-focused,
Or grasping a straws,
Not able to get a grip,
Fingers touch. Just the tips.
It's all there. It exists.
Attention has a deficit,
Order food.
Fish and chimps? Wait...
Conscious thought sometimes trips.
Like a tongue in...