Just Silly

There was a man I knew who liked tobacco chew, and to habit gave in spit into the win'... finish my poem with your line or two: There was a man, all black and blue; with no one around to sue – his protagonist absconded, full throttle, right angles he rounded – so, not knowing now what to do... the poor dear needs another line or two: There seemed no word to show – the writer with blocks like holey socks but not a length of thread to sew... his choices down to go barefooted or, for drastic inspiration, have some perfectly good teeth uprooted, his muse out of reach sunning herself on a nude beach....