This is a small writing experiment:
I’m typing whatever comes in my head,
Like sort of flash poetry’s what I meant;
Besides, it’s getting late and I’m not fed.
As I walked home from work I bought some bread
And pasta when I need to eat faster.
Oh no, pasta and faster? I have sped
Too fast into that line, a disaster.
What other ‘aster’ rhymes are left? Plaster,
Maybe, but how does that fit in? I’m spent!
This poem’s terrible - that’s what you said?
Or am I paranoid? Now I’ll blast a
Way through to the couplet. Intelligent
Or not, this travesty’s accomplishèd!
Mon 3o Apr 2007
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