Poetry schmoetry

Poetry schmoetry, out the mind

Is burdensome, as some will find.

We know what's what, and what's our kind.

Words spew forth, a drip, drip, drip.

Into our cups, we're forced to sip.

Just one a week is all I need,

But it's not so, I'm forced to feed.

Please spare us all

This burdensome gall.

Let us party at the ball!