writer's bloc.

digits at a standstill, in mock apprehension
as i await, forever
that crucial piece
to fill in the berlin wall

the iron curtain, obstructs my clarivoyance
WMDs launch, split second
those crippling towers
to construct multi-tented cathedrals

the KGB, they whisper white noise
fuzzy signal, momentarily
the storming spetnaz
to arrest my train of thought

so then i force myself to write thus
for without i can't hope to heap score upon score
call it the missing link, the last piece of the puzzle, the ace in the hole, the deus ex machina.
call it what you will.

you're that missing brick, dammit!