I wrote a poem within my head
no paper had I then
the words as if they by themselves
went looking for a pen.


To etch upon my brain somewhere
their combinations smart
alas my brain
rejected them
as fitting more my heart.


So down they went in one quick squish
and settled in that spot
but oh it’s constant beating
made confusion of the lot.

I’ll take them!”, belched my stomach
who was hungry don’t you see
“I’ve nothing that I have to do
till quarter after three!”.


Thus down again the words they plowed
such weary refugees
to find the stomach’s juices as
a swarm of angry bees!


“Enough!”,they cried, their syntax drenched
with gastro gobbily-gook
“Let’s leave
this acid furnace quick
before we all get cooked!”


They made their choice, if choice it was,
but I suspect it destined
that all my fancy ,little words
at last found my intestine.

And so my poem ,potentially,
a feather in my cap,
has made a splash,not as I planned,..

as a piece of crap.


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