I Pray For Diarrhoea

I Pray For Diarrhoea:

a curious cocktail of bowel movements and no inspiration.

I pray for diarrhoea

Of my constipated mind.

My muse is stuck in traffic

And my fingers can’t unwind.

My story’s frozen solid

From Medusa’s poison gaze.

It needs a little fibre

To escape this mental maze.

The toilet roll is waiting,

It’s a new one from the crate.

But my words are stubborn tenants:

They’re refusing to vacate.

Old Morpheus has ditched me,

And my dreams are hard as rock.

My porcelain page is empty,

I want colour, chaos, shock!

My lips are stitched together,

And the bile just won’t flow,

I need a pair of scissors,

‘Cause I really got to go.

I hate this heady silence.

Is my future now in doubt?

So I pray for diarrhoea,

Let those words just splatter out.