or the teacher's a bloody mess and the Social Studies test
she's supposed to sit and write is drowned in one more Mai Tai,
well, that's just wrong.
When the student's in such a miserable funk
he no longer cares he's on the list to flunk,
or the salesman can't find the mojo to move the promos,
and the cop can't cope with crime and starts to mope,
well, that's just wrong on so many levels.
But writers can wallow in self-pity, brood and stew
and turn it into something pretty, good, or new.
They may be too tired to feel especially inspired,
but they tap at the keys, appeasing the demons
that taunt them haunt them, tell them to quit.
And that's just the way it is.
(c) Ellen Gillette, 2012
Yeah, yeah, I know it stinks. I'm tired. a reason, not an excuse. Dock my pay.
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