[net.poems] in sympathy with the poetess; secondtry

ix222 (12/08/82)

The muses know that time spent writing poetry
is time wasted, let alone time spent writing
real doggerel like my present brilliant offering,
but as we all know this sort of intellectual masturbation
releases pent-up cathexes better than est or anything...

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The poetess unfurls her soul
And hoists it in the gloaming
She there awaits the critics great
Tails up and mouths foaming

The critics all heave high the pall
That together they  must bury
And sigh collectively for the --
Days of Peter Paul and Mary

Rhyme and meter, for wine, a liter
They would trade without a flinch
Writing well's a pain of course
But reviewing is a cinch.

			:-)
			steve
			sdcsvax;sdccsu3;ix222