It was the same routine,
I was trying to have some fun;
I grabbed a pen and paper,
in five minutes I was done.

As I scribbled my name down,
he flew into a rage;
he pushed his body up
and erupted off the page.

Grabbed me by the collar,
off my clothes he tore,
and locking it behind me,
he shoved me out the door.

Soon a crowd had gathered,
nude and small I stood,
trying hard to cover up;
his message understood.

These days I take my time,
I pamper my creations;
I take all sound advice,
no rush for publication.

(c) jh 1/30/10