OK, here's a poem written in haste
without rhyme or rhythm or reason
not scanning very well or even signifying anything in particular
except perhaps a manic desperation to create, at all costs,
and frustration at the inability so to do.
OK, here's another stanza, also written in haste
also signifying nothing
except perhaps an irritating allusion
to the Stratford bard and a mad king.
Unemployed pantheist, provocative iconoclast, abusive solipsist, failed psychopath.
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