Some people have muses. Fiorella has monsoons. Inspiration hits her like an unrelenting sledgehammer and she writes and writes and writes. One day the laptop is going to sling out strange new connections and attach itself to her navel, a new umbilical.
Nothing there is that is safe from me,
Nothing I hear or read or see--
I am a person of constant ideas,
Usually in overflow,
A veritable Vesuvius of the brain--
Beware, take care--watch out below!
Of course, once I've written everything down, I'll start the housework--whoops, too late, new idea coming down the chute.
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