Judge Not - I'll do it myself
Somehow it seems the poems do not pass muster
The words a swirling dance that will not cluster
They deem themselves alone to be the fulcrum
That lets the lever lift them from the hum-drum
And midst the overflowing verse – coerce
The pen to change its ever-destined course
And drop a not so nearly rhyming line
Though Shakespeare dropped one in from time to time
Thus, do I sit like Howdy’s Mister Bluster
Grumbling in metronomic fluster
Tapping out the pentagrams iambic
Trembling beneath my use-less panic
Thus do I shout: “Damn Shakespeare’s sonnet”
Were I a dog I think I’d pee upon it
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