O monstrous muse
release me from these wordle chains
leave me in a channel of beauty.
So many words I deprecate
but to use them is my duty.
You sprinkle a few unrelated terms
and dare us fools to use them.
Me, I cheat the beastly things
and try my best to lose them,
speak them aloud to hear what rhymes,
what branch of poetry to choose,
which cancerous thought to eliminate,
which red herring disseminate
by beading words together
in a manner indiscriminate.
O monstrous muse, I’ve chewed them all,
emancipated those not fit for use
manipulated others by a ruse.
The time has come to terminate.
I dare say others at the Sunday Whirl will have skilfully formed this motley lot into a real poem.