An Ode to the Weakly Update (a poem for web-fiction serial writers)

I’m sitting here writing and I’m starting to think,

that the thing that I’m writing has started to stink

 

I’m revising and working but it’s not going well.

Seems nothing I do can get rid of this smell.

 

So, I go to the trash bin with five thousand words,

that assembled, resembled nothing but turds.

 

Now I’m once again writing and I have a defense.

When I edit this nonsense, I’ll burn some incense.

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