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
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