The exercise: take a random lyric from a song (for me, one written by Thom Yorke), and use it as the title/first line of the poem. Travel where it leads.

A million engines in neutral

I am fed to bursting with combustible ink,
a spark of the written Tao, fumes
of loving kindness, and here I am,
engines rumbling on countertops,
disrupting family meatloaf dinners
with angry cries of “Mindfulness!”
and “Ego trip!” and “Stop attaching me!”
and “Stop anchoring me down!”
and “Me! Me! Me!”—a million engines
prepped for a million-mile
journey into the heart of the sun,
wasting their fuel on the cul-de-sac.