by Linda Munn

Created on: March 20, 2010

I Write

I write and write in gay profusion;

On this and that, in great confusion.

Here’s an article! There’s a book!

Tucked in cranny; tucked in nook.

I write and write in gay profusion;

On this and that, in great confusion.

Piles of paper I amass;

Gives the place a “touch of class”.

I write and write in gay profusion;

On this and that, in great confusion.

Do not shuffle! Do not touch!

Even though you love me much.

I write and write in gay profusion;

On this and that, in great confusion.

I question; query; beg; and plea;

Please, somebody, publish me!

I write and write in gay profusion;

On this and that, in great confusion.

S.A.S.E.’s I do enclose; paper clips and samples too,

With each and every one; now I taste of postage glue.

I write and write in gay profusion;

On this and that, in great confusion.

Everyday, when the mailman comes;

I head for the mailbox on the run.

In comes rejection slips in gay profusion;

On comes rejections slips in great confusion.

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