Remember the poor man's copyright.

Last night. Stared at paper all night. Stared. Chicken scratch. Crossed out. New lines. Crossed out. Sat. Fiddled. Drank lemonade. Then, this! I love blind inspiration.

If I could line you up in a chronicle;
Write you down like Kerouac.
I'd get bored in the middle
And ask for all my ink back....