I'll cast a line into the sea
of words and letters and thought,
i'll wait impatiently to see
when first the line grows taut
what rhyme or underlying notion
my fishing-line has caught
from the blackest depths of ocean
my darker shadows have wrought

my line is slack, there's nothing biting,
no monster taking the bait,
there's no thought or anything igniting,
i suppose i've more to wait.

but what if another power
has beat me to the chase
tiredness at this late hour
has placed me in deepest straits
has mulcted me of thoughts and words
so that i canna think straight?

but, hey, at least this pathetic nerd
has managed to keep his place
in making rhyme, albeit blurred,
for BLT's challenging race.