Wanting to write a poem

Pruritus

There’s the itch: this poem
no calamine for Old Scratch’s
wanderings, more a home
for what’s devilish to catch.

Of all my flea-bitten ideas,
this may be the most rash—
find friction in desire’s gears
and write the luciferous flash.

Putting skin into the game,
this digging shallow trails;
scratching the surface frames
a rhymed scaffold with nails.

*****

By the way, if you've not yet been to see the qarrtsiluni insecta issue, go now!