although my weakest attribute is reflection,
I can pinpoint the exact moment
I gained inspiration.

along a bridge covering dirty water,
a girl with black hair brushed by me,
completely incidentally.

later that night I imagined myself
in a majestic game of chess
which failed to follow any of the conventional rules. It was at that point that I abandoned analytic assertions in favor of nonsensical poetry
and very quickly discovered that I was capable of discovering pride,
especially when encouraged by my fellow
inspired idiots and an acquaintance named Lydia
whom I have since lost touch with

for roughly 18 months my brain transformed into something that, even now, looking back with a great deal of fortune and maturity, I believe was brilliant.

I can pinpoint the exact moment I abandoned my inspiration.
it was in a breakfast club by the rapids
where I glimpsed the rest of my life,
and God named me Solomon, offering a menu of perfections.

my budget was unimaginably extensive and yet I failed to notice the small flap in the corner which would cover the item I might covet most. I missed this flap precisely because I was concerned about a hot surface and rushed through my selections out of an abiding abundance of caution. I do not necessarily regret it.

I have everything I want
— except inspiration.
Mirror, be my muse.