To be a writer you must buy a block
Then you need a pen and paper both.
I don’t what my shops have in stock
You have no right to find another dock
So stand in court and take a solemn oath
To be a writer you must buy a block
Quickly stir your dinner in a wok
For brains need food when energy falls low
I don’t what omens are in stock
You might need more paper, hire a truck
Fill it up with reams of stuff in rows
To be a writer you must buy a block
Once you write a line, you’re called unstuck
To its fellows you must be the host.
I don’t what sentences we stock
The sentences must run out unenforced
And between them we ignite further words
To be a writer you must buy a block
Just see what the Bailey’s got ad hoc
