I was going to write a post about SEX.
But then something came up.
(No punnuendo intended.)
And the something that came up so perfectly grasped the point of this post,
(Definite punnuendo here)
That I decided to combine the two.
In the form of slam poetry.
So. Here we go.
Oh sexy, elusive vixen.
I alternately love you and hate you.
I love you in the morning,
When you send my fingers flying,
Across the keys of my soon-to-be
Which is named Magnus.
(Because it is quite large. You’re welcome.)
I hate you at 3:00am,
When you send my mind skittering
And reeling through outer space,
Instead of letting me rest
And sometimes, inspiration,
I accidentally cheat on you
With your similarly sexy,
But ultimately disease-ridden cousin:
In the throes of passion,
Tangled up in a new idea,
I often wonder:
Is it inspiration I’m courting?
When I decide to add something,
Like clever chapter headings,
On the spur of the moment?
Or when I suddenly decide
To rewrite my entire MS
In first person present
Ten pages before it’s finished?
Is it inspiration,
Who whispers lovingly
And so insistently
Into my warm and susceptible ear?
And how will I know,
Before I ride out the throes,
And wake up with a case
Of morning after regret?
Before I take my MS,
On a metaphorical,
Walk of shame?
You tell me, fellow sexy nerds. You tell me.
Also, let’s see if we can’t make this sexy little slice of slang happen:
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