Damn you, inspiration!

Inspiration comes in the night.

It’s where I look, where you might 

find

me tumbling along a crooked road

bartering unmatched socks with a toad 

who

soaked his pair in the pond, on the pad

then hopped upfor a lad

to

trade in the shade, with a smirk.

but this switch made no jerk

be

cause (in this dream) I love unmatched socks

so much I’d hand this toad flocks of rocks

with-

gold-flecked dots and mushroom-

shaped spots, fit for a groom,

out

on his day (or her’s), or any day.

perhaps to-day, butreally,

first.

i go to bed.

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