Orgasmic Ideas Poem by K.. K..

sitting at my desk
wondering what is happening
trying to get a grip
on what is left of reality
trying to put into words
what can't be grasped
coming slowly
in blurbs
then little drops
like blood
draining out of my wrists
from an open wound in my flesh
trying to grasp the meaning
as the words rush out
but no meaning seems to come
until the very end
and I lay wasted
as if every thought
and every feeling
has been drained
from my mind, body, and soul
being totally succumbed
as if from an orgasm
not of sex
but of an accomplished idea
with a certain euphoria
at the thought
of another finished poem