"Writing Makes No Sense"

Someone somewhere may read this
and wonder what it means.
Scorpions don't weigh much.
They will pick apart
each word trying to decide
exactly what they mean;
what I might be trying to say.
Centipedes here are about
the size of a good
Cuban cigar and scarey
when in your shoe!
If the truth were known
which it is about to be
words come so fast
their is no time to think.
Brown Recluse Spiders
hide and make their webs
in the baking dishes
under the kitchen counter.
What have I written?
Does it make sense?
Better if it doesn't.
Snakes hide ubder the rocks
so be careful when you
move rocks. Wear gloves.
There is a road
like the one the moon makes
across the water at night
where the words come from
that find your finger tips.
You can't stop or
you will fall into the water.
The water is dark and cold.
The man in the moon smiles
if the words find a good place.
Lizards hide in Gypsys woodpiles
and are actually quiet beautiful.
Writing is like jumping
off the high diving board.
When you hit the water
the story is done.
Raccoons make a mess of everything.
Sometimes I do to
when I write.
Tarantulas like to sit
on the wood around the garage door.
Their song is echoed from the woods.
The lovely gentle giants.
Opossoms are quiet.
Maybe I should be as well.