I don't study; my mind buzzes an ivory tower,
Rocks it with a moment of my rhyming power,
Which you will never see come to full flower
Since it's moving at one hundred miles an hour,
But I see beauty as I flash past, and I bag it.
If I ever want to write something that ain't true, I'll gag it,
But when I see life's untruth, then I earn stripes. I flag it.
With so many hats to wear, my head runs ragged,
and I forget my worries, the date and my name.
I might tweak my techniques, but my whole life's the game;
Once I was quatrains and couplets, always the same,
But my new child, the tercet, it grows, and I nurse it.
Right now it's tiny. I could keep it in a purse. It's
Here to stay, whether you crave or curse it.
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