Visions of Mork and Mindy
Twisting about in my brain
Making me want to shout
“Oh no, not NaNoWriMo”
Again
Without relying on sublime rhyme
Can’t believe I’ll have the time
To write an entire book on organized crime
With only thirty days on this month’s calendar
With vim and vigor
My book will grow bigger
Page after page, I’ll rigor
Each key stroke, like a trigger
Each chapter another bastard liger
I’ve read, I’m in good company
Since thousands of writer wannabes’
Attempt such tomfoolery
Year after year, in November,
Repeatedly
With much thought
Plots will be plaited
Daily words read, sounding fraught
Authors’ close to tears
Along with all the others, who are
Continuously vetting
Each syllable, each word
Indelicately wrought
In this contest
Against all odds
Each author should take note:
Of their eternal gratitude
Or their ingratitude
For the technology
Of wondrous programs,
Such as
Microsoft Word,
And all the others
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