I spit at the common cold that takes away my ability to write… <br />No. <br /> <br />A Giant boulder on the train tracks, immovable, upon impact, wreckage… <br />No… <br /> <br />A common disease that afflicts even the greatest of writers… <br />No no no. <br /> <br />An Olympic smoker’s throat in the early morning, <br />Congested with phlegm and spit and beetle dung, <br />From yesterday’s incestuous attempt to unclog his writing, <br />Yet nothing seems to clear, not a nostril, not a page, not a lung. <br /> <br />NOOOOOO! ! ! ! <br /> <br />If only this was as simple as <br />flushing out the pipes, <br />walking the dog, <br />flogging the dolphin, <br />spanking the monkey, <br />shaking hands with major, <br />sending in the commando, <br />cranking the slot machine, “JACKPOT JACKPOT JACKPOT” <br /> <br />No no no no no…. <br /> <br />It’s been over a month, my creative juices have seem to run out on me… <br /> <br />GOD NO! <br /> <br />Denied, for the nth time…. <br />Tomorrow, again. Maybe tomorrow…<br /><br />Warren Augustus de Guzman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/blockage/
