Friday-Lite

Waxing poetic is today’s attempt;
But prophetic? I’m surely exempt!
I’m just a simple muse,
And me don’t confuse
With a pundit deserving contempt.

Each morning I sit at a computer
To write a piece of repute, or
Less so as the case might be
for I am the first to see
If I am my only suitor.

I’m not new at this writing life
So with ideas I’m generally rife.
But there are those days
When I can only but gaze
At a screen full of scrawling strife.

My retreat can be unnerving,
And my topic simply self-serving.
I write just the same
On an idea quite lame,
But to be published it's hardly deserving.

Re the word-war so valiantly fought
I leave you with this final thought.
Though I am at ease
With my mental striptease,
By “New Yorker” it will never be bought.



"Friday Lite"
Copyright © 2010 Michael J. McCabe
All Rights Reserved. (though this is hardly necessary)