94. Back In The Studio

Late – about 8am.
Snakes in my arms.
Pins in my eyes.

Words on scraps of
paper scattered
at my bare feet.

Honey, hot water,
six sliced lemons
and a baby grand.

A pair of cans
around my neck
like a noose.

“Don’t worry,” says
a disembodied voice
from the control room:

“We’ll straighten
it all out
in the mix.”