2017.22 - A Sofa Called Despair

I think I’ve come under a spell -
I’m not writing poems so well;
My brain’s had enough,
It’s been filled with dry stuff,
And my eyeballs are starting to swell.

It’s not that I don’t love to write,
But I’m coupling words every night.
#amwriting (Whatever!
I’ve jettisoned clever,
And am scribbling any old shite.)

But I can’t quit while I’m still ahead
Even though my Muse fucked off to bed.
If you cannot do better
Just get bloody meta
And write about writing instead.


Turns out that doing poetry admin is antithetical to writing poetry. I knew this, but I can’t just stop for April. Either that or all the late nights are draining my creativity. Or it’s just one of those days. Anyway. Limerick. Still on target. Bah. {twitches}