The Blank Page

A revision

I stare at the blank page and our dance begins
So many ideas without anywhere to start
Words race through my head
Through my body, but there is no egress

My fingers run along the keyboard only to be disappointed
No click-click or tap-tap
So many stories bounce around
Like an empty racket ball court

Prose? Nope.
Poetry? Not a thing
Lyrics? Not even close
The blank page mocks me

I turn to music
Thrash Unreal
        Delete-Delete-Delete to the beat
The 40 inch is on in the background
Hannibal
        Control-X
I skim through British Summertime
A paragraph is written, but swiftly denied

My dance with the blank page continues
It leads
How can so many ideas produce nothing
Emptiness