Every day I write a pound,

Nothing clever or profound.

Up to the sky I roll my eyes,

An arrowed flock to my surprise. 

Words swoop in waves of feathers,

Free fall a tip. Sharp and clever.

Alas, my muse upon the quill.

Armed with Structure, Direction, Purpose, and Will.

Act one - make it the best.

Swell the belly. Do not rest.

Firework end. Oh wait - back matter.

About me - yak. A buffoon - It nattered. 

Story dead closed. TIme for a nap.

Nightmare Title - Useless Crap.