Before you write, take a moment.
Listen to the music of your thoughts. Your own thoughts.
Let them tingle and ripple, and finally, foam in to song.
Then, just then, lift up your pen and sing.
But not before you sip past the ocean foam of screaming fish.
Not before you leave the crashing chorus behind you on the hot sand.
Dive, tongue-first, and naked; into the beer pitcher of tears.
But. Always. First?
As you dive in, long-stare your reflection in the sea water.
Swallow yourself first, sea-bird, and then sing.