i’ve been sitting here for
minutes, asking myself
what mood i am in so that
i will know what kind of
poem to write; but my
laughable self-knowledge
yet again fails me,
refusing to clarify
what meaning I should find
in this unstoppable lethargy
that has swept through me
for no foreseeable reason.
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the sieve and the sand 
i read your poem.
at a loss for words
asking myself what
mood i am in so that
i will know what kind
of crappin’ comment
to make on your poem
but my lack of morn
ing usefulness leads to
things neither of us
want
Yeah, that was a rather whiny poem and probably deserves a comment from your mean poetry writing mood