(—The first for one anthology

or capstone to 99 past?)
 
My mind is plunged
into the chamber of creation
to find a great inner essence
scribbling out several dozen poems
in several dozen days.
Eventually
at the plateau,
I stare off in a daze:
 
Then,
the long dark
and 
aimless stumbling 
like the last 26 times
 
Then,
there is absolution
but I choose
to continue
burning out as fast
as I inhumanly can
into
the next long dark—