There once was writer named Maxwell/
Who wrote only things factual /
Imagination, he said, /
Was not in his head. /
Then he was eaten by a Pterodactyl.
There once was writer named Maxwell/
Who wrote only things factual /
Imagination, he said, /
Was not in his head. /
Then he was eaten by a Pterodactyl.
Filed under 2022, Monday morning writing joke, poem, poetry, Poetry by David E. Booker
There once was writer named Maxwell, /
Who wrote only about things factual. /
Imagination, he said, /
Was overrated and dead. /
Then he was eaten by a Pterodactyl.