...Ideally Primed To Write...

Fallow wing on figurative

awk kill lees heal

of: "My on call (Uncle)

Muse Never Sleeps"-

which hoop fully

didst eat turn nilly app peal

ache'n to (tongue in cheek)

mucho yum zook

awesome guacamole tasting real

lee out of this world culinary steal

within the confectioner common weal.

 

-------------------------------------

Undoubtedly every aspiring,

and/or successful author

(from United States, the You

Kay and/or any other country)

doth gingerly woo

cerebral explosive starry eye burst,

and strives to hone on nest lee

maximize zing her/his writing,

yet keenly aware

unfettered near pristine view,

when her/his own das scribe able true

lee most opportune

critical (albeit figurative)

window of literary creativity

must needs be channelled

analogous to damning

a swollen river,

(albeit blitzkrieg brickbats

unstoppably pounding dog gone

ferociously, that doth spew)

to spill out unwedded, uncoupled,

and unbridled, essentially,

non groom matt tickly uncontrollably

(chomping at the bit) literary

 

flood tide of ideas

without pausing to edit, nor review

(bursting at the figurative seams),

despite futile attempt to

staunch, stave, stay,

et cetera over saturated figurative

sand bagged levee mal lined queue

stream of consciousness

with (oh brother) Grimm purview,

whereat, the palpable next great

winning gust American opus

doth appear as forsaken cause

unexpurgated (approximating

totally tubularly regurgitated pablum)

riddled with flaws

will presumably meet with editorial wrath

 

venomous unprintable thrashing

more vituperative than in-laws

subsequently ill fate receives

terse cancellation from Oprah's

Bookclub, where unstinting praise about

equates to a near

guarantee reversing bout

of dirt poor

 

poverty novel with clout

would book without

a shadow of a doubt

home ward James mull hoard

cuja (meaning this chap

forced to work graveyard shift)

pocketed a shining winner,

hence noel hunger need to flout,

a heavy schedule, whence tome

more row rockets red glare

will arc across cerulean sky inveritably

propelling overnight yesterday's

unknown schlepping scrivener lout

to top of New York Times

best seller list

with trumpeting huzzahs.