Is there a method
to the madness?


The separating
the person from
the badness

of their rambling
iameter?

Is every
versification

due to be
subjected

to perusification

by every Tom,
Dick and Harriet?

Or are some
solemn sonnets

to be held
close to the vest

and protected
from the poetic
farriet?

Good or bad,

the action of
putting pen to
papier,

is, even at
the worst of
times,

a way of propping
up
the
superiority

of the pencil
over the rapier!

So, when you clutch
your tablet of clay

tight (but not
too tight) in hand,

and take up pointed
stick to cuneiform

to your heart's
demand,

damn the torpedoes

and inscribe full
speed ahead,

because the day
will come

when you can't
write,

because you
are
dead!