I am not a poet. I am not even a writer. What I am is a pen and ink and paper addict, a word addict, someone who scribbles in compulsive spurts and who, honestly, is about as happy to write a letter or a list of random words or to copy out a nice bit of someone else's writing as she is to write her own. Maybe more so. Often, most definitely more so.
Lately pen and paper mock me. I pick them up, and they whisper snide things beneath my pen strokes. What I need is to write utter nonsense, equally snide patter that has little literary value but that is a relief to write just for the sake of its smart-alek-y-ness.
So. Give me topics upon which to snarl, topics about which to be sharply witty and ascerbic. I need the excuse.