Oh brand new ink, how do you flow?
Will you allow my thoughts to slip
Neatly to the paper below
Each and every inspired drip?
Will you obey fluidic laws
For the cunningly lofty muse
Or will you clog and create flaws
To blow my mind like some cheap fuse?
Nay! Your performance is divine
Conveyed by a feathery quill
As if from god's assembly line
To brim now with poetic skill
In time for my nocturnal verse;
Well worth the effort I coerce!