Creative Constipation
A good day—a bad day—so it goes on. Few people can be so tortured by writing as I am. —Virginia Woolf
Writing…is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some painful illness. —George Orwell
I regret to report that my words are irregular.
If it’s crappy for you, just imagine my editor.
//
It’s been seven whole days and not one single word.
I just float here in silence, much like a turd.
//
They say either poop or get off the pot.
As for me, not a sentence will drop.
//
My insights harden, my thoughts congeal,
Like concrete poems I can’t unseal.
//
This literary logjam has messed up my mind.
I need fictive fiber of the writerly kind.
//
Perhaps Meta-muse-cil or a similar aide,
Will get my thoughts moving and surmount this blockade.
//
Amidst backed-up brain and clogged-up muse,
These cheap metaphors I just can't refuse.
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This shit sure does stink and I speak not of stools.
Just mental constipation's cruel, cruel ruse.
//
What a shitty situation, a crappy conundrum!
You might think it’s funny until you happen on one.
//
And so here I sit and wait for some gold.
Until damned writer’s block loosens its hold.