Poetetics

I take Mr. Webster's pages Season rather well Toss t4hem in a noisy blender Stir them up pell-mell If you find therein some meaning I am doing well 'Cause I am just a used-words merchant I've nothing else to sell So here I am, past seventy A prattling, wordy fool My friends all say, and I agree I should go back to school I can learn from textbooks proper ways The way to do it right And scribble pretty words of love That blossoms in the night But what does this boy know of love? I've only loved one girl Since back when I was seventeen And I had hair, with curls Society says love comes and goes And girls move in and out But I don't understand their way Or what it's all about So I'll just keep my long-time girl Who wears my wedding ring There is no Jeezebel in her She treats me like a king So i can never write of love As forlorn tragedy I can only write of love AsI found it to be