Come On
Ideas are slapping me in the gut today.
I shove one, another falls, one urges me to play.
I bite them and smash them and slash them to bits.
They keep coming back, not caring if I scream or have fits.
Come on! I say to my imagination. Give me a break.
She takes out a potato and starts broiling a steak.
A pink dinosaur with orange dots stands on my head.
I guess these ideas will keep coming until I am dead.,
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