It's Poetic Glory...Or Two All Beef Patties.

It's Poetic Glory Or Just Two All Beef Patties???

 

 

©-MFB III

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To right, proper writes
when your muse has the blues,
and glory's elusive
with no subjects to choose.

Poetically speaking,
just take a deep breath,
mental blocks can be built on,
it's not sudden death.

Try a strong drink to help you to
clear up the stink
of your worst attempts ever
to pen what you think.

Take a month off,
start living,
in ways not yet tried,
take some chances,
romances,
with nothing denied.

Study people, and places,
absorb the world's flavors,
I'm sure from what's bitter,
you'll find thoughts to savor.

Wait until your soul's filled
with each day you've spent,
far outside of what's normal,
almost totally bent.

Then get two reams of paper,
and some strong coffee brewed,
sit down, and think back on
what your quest took you through.

Words will flow like the urine
of a six-year old bloated
on two quarts of Kool-Aid,
that he's finally unloaded.

If you still come up dry,
there is nothing to fear,
get a job at McDonald's,
make fast food your career.

Things will get done much quicker,
and your head might soon clear
or you'll be so depressed
that a pen will appear.

You'll be writing on walls,
on time cards, on your apron,
even fish fillet wrappers,
will catch thoughts escaping.

Cause it's poetic glory,
or two patties, all beef,
either write fast food orders,
or poems beyond belief.

Happy meals, happy papers,
but you must make the choice,
nothing rhymes well with burgers,
in a poetic voice.

Here's to super sized volumes
many new poems this year
lest it's cheap paper hats,
and a large ketchup smear.

Plus twelve pounds
of grease hanging quite fat on your rear.

That's all I can offer
any questions my dear?

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