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FINDING THE FIRST SENTENCE.

Want to write, but nothing good to say now

My Muse has gone off to inspire someone

Else, not that I really trust her, the cow!

She made me write the one about Chorlton

And The Wheelies. ("A great show shame

About the poem though. Load of immature crap

Penned by an old self-concious layabout

But Iím trapped, waiting for inspiration.

I can cope alone! No muse is good muse.

Let her attend some poor scribeís salvation

Elsewhere. Iíll find my own way. I refuse

To give .... Oh great timing! Now Iím too tired.

Just as I fall asleep words come to me.

Tomorrow Iíll arise sober, all fired

Up to write, "Time for bed said Zebedee."

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