The page looked at me <br />blankly. <br /> <br />The words gathered <br />inside my head <br /> <br />but refused to <br />come out. <br /> <br />'Sorry mate... <br />we're on strike! ' <br /> <br />'But why...? ' <br />I cried. <br /> <br />'Do I have to spell it out <br />for you? ' <br /> <br />'Write...write...write! ' <br />'That's all you do! ' <br /> <br />'You 'ave us up <br />all bloody night <br />it just ain't right! ' <br /> <br />'No...I...don't! ' <br />I lied...blantly. <br /> <br />'Oh...who was that scentence <br />I saw you with last night? ' <br /> <br />'That was no sentence...that was <br />my haiku! ' <br /> <br />'And those poor vowels <br />...the howls! ' <br /> <br />'Look, mate...we're consonants <br />so we can take it but <br /> <br />...a vowel's a vowel! ' <br /> <br />'Now, it's just <br />our luck <br />that we're gone & got <br />ourselves an Irish poet <br /> <br />who is prone <br />to a little <br /> <br />internal vowel <br />rhyme! ' <br /> <br />'Assonance! ' <br />I said. <br /> <br />'Bless you Guv but <br />I don't cares wot you'se call it! ' <br /> <br />'All we hear all night long is <br />O...E...I...U! ' <br /> <br />And with that <br />they left <br /> <br />the whole bloody <br />alphabet <br /> <br />absailing out of my head <br /> <br />marching down <br />my forearm <br /> <br />the whole bloody platoon <br />now on my patella <br /> <br />now turning at the door <br />saying: 'See ya fella! ' <br /> <br />'Call yourself...call yourself <br />a bloody poet! ' <br />they jeered <br /> <br />'We're off to Bryan Baker's <br />head! ' <br /> <br />'Now...there's a poet! ' <br /> <br />Slam! <br /> <br />The door was silent. <br /> <br />They were gone. <br /> <br />I was... <br />...I was <br /> <br />...speech-less!<br /><br />Dónall Dempsey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem..../speech-less-for-b-b