Love me some word.



a treatise on woeful ineptitude. From "Five Score More Tails From Offshore..." (unpublished)


 I think, seven pencils, if memory served.

Ten dozen pen cousins subsequently interred.

A case of legal pads, both sides, it's absurd.

At base programs, I'm so bad, I really need to learn word!


 I'd never written but, I do speak in rhyme.

Now, I'm this smitten, word eking enzyme.

So easily inspired to committing this crime

and seasonally retired, so I can spend lots of time.


 Sometimes, a hooter, at odd hours comes through,

And I'll not use computer at quarter past two.

I confess impish resolve and brood 'til I'm blue.

Unless this fish evolves, crude, tried and true tools will do.




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