Some poems

Some poems come quite instantly
In moments I’m waking up,
Or working through a coffee cup.
They come with sudden urgency,
As if whatever’s left in me
That didn’t assimilate in me,
That didn’t become a part of me,
Is now coagulating down
Into a coloured poignancy.
They bring me great relief when out.
A moment’s lightness pervades me.
Expressed in right consistency,
These poems have a stickiness,
Endowed unmistakably
With airs that shock and move the eyes
That risk even an idle glance.
No wonder they are simply shit.