The madness of small spaces inside the crevices of my mind where I’ve left old memories behind that are slowly beginning to emerge from the depths of my consciousness

The madness of more rain beating down in the middle of the night and the cold winds and stormy afternoons and fir tree limbs snapping off

The madness of the old fat mangy long haired gray cat outside my door crying and whining for more food saying FEED ME FEED ME!!!

The madness of my old Toyota pickup using more oil and fuel and demanding more repairs to get from here to there

The madness of people coming and going in and out of doorways everywhere

The madness of the same old everyday routine and the old familiar streets I’ve been down too many times before

The madness of my pen running out of ink when the words finally come rushing out of my brain to put down on paper and then I lose the flow of thoughts like a river drying up and all the fish and birds dying.