Mental Notes Poem by nathan martin

levels of indifference fill my brain,
and all i need is a steno note pad
and a bit more coffee.

i feel rushed now to come up with the
right phrase or clever incantation,
but why not wait for the others to
come tumbling down, the sylabols
that fill the lines of pages and phonebooks,
and for some reason we all think of
the color yellow.

now i am trying to remember the name
of that really good thai reastaurant,
but my thoughts only come across in
subtitles and seem to be in hungarian.

oh well it does not matter now that i have
run out of room on this page and my
genius has left me. he always smoked
all of my camel lights anyways.