I imagine it’s like a road block in my head,


A number of police officers asking for identification and registration

I imagine it’s like an interference, a block (if you will),



From one player to the next, choreographing their own play of creation

I imagine it’s like a wooden block



Attired with auctioneer’s who bid their nonsense over mine

I imagine it’s like a block of tickets, or a bundle maybe,


That you may win after spending hours of patiently waiting in line

I imagine it’s like a chopping block

Used to support the smashing of mediocre ideas and to split open bark

I’m certain it’s like a child’s play-thing,



A letter on each side and, of course, alphabetically marked.

It’s like a town resounding in my head with a small shopping base, a section of city, and thousands of empty lots.

Yes, I know it’s something that I’ve grown accustomed to, though it hinders my imagination ad smothers my thoughts.

It’s the most annoying adversary of them all… It’s my lifetime companion whether I like it or not.

But at least I know its loyal, cause however many times I’ve tried to bargain,
It won’t stop.

So I’d like for you to meet
The one and only,

Notorious,




Mr. Writer’s Block.