That cool tired early morning habit
In the lights under the tent
As the words, other people's minds flow past
Suddenly a flash here, connection there
Noticing the people noticing the readers, looking
Anywhere, the sky, birds, each other
Anywhere but the reader's eyes
That sudden insight, giving a new voice
To the chorus inside
I borrow your voices and don't give them back, put them
Inside my psyche, part of my concept
Of language
My virus, my muse speaks only
On the cool morning when coffee flows and voices holler
Good title...humorous.