This boring prompt, an irksome commission
dealt a formidable blow to my motivation
my every sense in proclamation
declared you cannot write without inspiration
all the insipid places I scoured
for any humdrum amplification
through sifter tediously I poured the flat,
monotonous, the prosaic the Avant-Garde
as well the archaic miles I hiked,
searching for anything banal
trekked the good earth from dawn till nightfall
yet with all my images, mosaic
but for reality T.V., old cars and political conversation
I cannot unearth in my exploration
an unoriginal entity from to pick
to deliver to you this rainy Thursday antemeridian.
Wilde.Life 