Wednesday, September 11, 2019

I Might Just Do It, Too

I had a poem writ for me,
I don’t know where it went.
I paid the poet quite a fee,
Now all my money’s spent.
And so I’m seeing now if I 
Can write the thing moi-même.
A little français might imply
I’m just as good as them
Who say they be sophisticates –
Such fancy words they spew!
I’m probably ridiculous,
Don’t much care what I do.
But hey! I’m on another stanza,
Dancing double-time.
And though it’s no extravaganza,
Damn if it don’t rhyme!
Why not write a Stanza Five?
I’ve already done four.
Writing makes me feel alive!
I think I’ll write some more.
But nah: I’m tired, I’ve overstepped
My bounds. I’m feeling flat.
And who knows, after I have slept,
I might just make a hat.

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