WRITERS' BLOCK

              I'd like to think there was something extraordinary about it.
              "You're on strike?" boomed the doctor.
              I gazed out across snowclad gardens.
              A robin smiled and shook his tail.
             "Where would we be without people like you?"
               Where indeed.
              Don't do normal or routine,
              Don't do blind conformity or herds,
              Don't do silence when the audience goes home,
              Don't do laughter, life or love.
              My face as closed as my book.
              And the robin ate cake.