So I was thinking of those pharmaceutical commercials that contain about two minutes worth of warnings and disclaimers, and used them as my model for this rather self-deprecating but silly prose poem. I also used (once again) this week's Sunday Whirl word bank, just to help me go in some unexpected directions.
Bruceax has been shown to be effective in the treatment
of poetry deficiency and literate boredom.
Do not use Bruceax if you are allergic to rhyme or meter,
have Type A diabetes, or have eaten recently.
Do not intermingle Bruceax with other, more accomplished poetry.
If you get Bruceax on your hair, simply lather, rinse and repeat.
Do not use Bruceax to filter cigarettes, startle horses,
charm snakes, or treat vampire bites.
Excessive use of Bruceax may lead to depression and utter despair.
Side effects include metaphor overdose, iambic pentameteritis,
a question-mark-shaped rash, and paralysis of the limbs.
If you experience any or all of these symptoms,
call your poetry professor immediately.
See our rebate offer in the current issue of Writer's Digest.
If you can't afford Bruceax,
The Norton Anthology of Pharmaceuticals may be able to help.
[Jingle: "When you want a poem and need to relax... Try-y-y-y Bruceax!"]