Analysis of Blank black brain

Out of bed this young morning,
i squaffled my memory,
trying to reminiscence the affairs of the past night,
i saw nothing,
only my blank black brain,
dangling on crestal possibilities;

i gain'd an impurse to write
of what?the other psycho ask'd,
nothing! I guess'd,
or
about my blank-black-brain,

putting them in poem-form,
scripting began,
"blank black brain"
what i was writing,i know not,
but,the inclination was tempting

i saw the sun,rising from the east,
and thought it wise to write on it,
"how do you sprout?" my psycho ask'd,
"i don't know" answer'd my blank black brain.
/the sun was statistically locomotory,
but my brain lack'd the words;

the cock crow'd out-side,
"i will write on this!"
shouts my psycho.
he sound was mastery,
and it conquer'd my cognitive description;

out of bed this young morning,
ideas stuffed my blank black brain,
and i had no arsenal to enchant them!