CONSTIPATION; being an acrostick
 

Jayne, here is one I've found myself able (paradoxically!) to write in swift response:


CONSTIPATION; being an acrostick

Can I compare thee to a motion locked,
Or say thou’rt like that other failure, seated?
No verse emerges - I’m a writer blocked;
Seems that prosy passage too’s defeated.
Toilet, bureau, or computer keyboard
Is a site of selfsame felt frustration:
Poised bereft - no matter how I’ve hee-hawed,
Archly straining, panged with indignation.
Take it from me! Th’ inward discomposure
Is alike; mind, body in like stupor.
Oh, for blessed release to ease this closure!
Now, we’re kindred: foiled author and pooper.

The good news: I've finally attained literary immortality.

The bad news: It's for...this.

Oh, well. I shall endeavor to bear my success with good grace.

Bound for Glory

The unmoving sphincter writes, and having writ,
I cannot cross it out. So here I sit
upon the Throne of Poesy, forever.
Oh, how I wish that I could give a shit!

There's no elation in constipation
nor cheer in diarrhoea.

If a merciful God had tried either
He'd have cursed us with neither.

******

From the Bathroom
by Arthur C Clarke?

By 2020
I'll be done.
I've been here since
2001.

Behind Closed Doors

I've finished my book,
my newspaper too.
There's nothing to read
but a tube of shampoo.
Not my first choice,
but I guess it will do.

Said Forster, “I’ve written
A book in the loo.
I think I shall call it
“A Room with a ‘Phew!’ ”