Late night tapping

Just as I disentangle myself from wires and keyboards,
Unbidden ideas beckon rather than bedsheets
And like an umbilical cord my computer and I
seem symbiotic all at once
The empty screen suddenly filling
As my fingers dance upon the keyboard
Tapping a rhythm my brain cannot
Begin to decipher

This is when some other
More adept version of me
Spews verity after an inspirational swig
Drinking from hidden springs
That emerges from a place I never
Find sanctuary

if I stop for a moment
I hold my breath fearful that the tapping
will abate
And dreading as well that once I stop to
meet the words I have brought with ease,
A salivating ghoul will meet me on the pages
Gracelessly supplanting annoying Magus

If I could channel the colour blue
I would discover something new
Nothing pretty
But something vaguely true
A safe space, in a sinecure
To be thoroughly sequestered
Producing nothing.