The Blank Page (First Draft)

The first draft of an ongoing poem

I stare at the blank page and commence battle
So many idea 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

Music plays through the headphones
Thrash Unreal
The 40 inch is on
Hannibal
I’m surrounded by my favorite writers
British Summertime

My dance with the blank page continues
One day I’ll succeed