Poetry Schmoetry

I wax the shine pedantic

To pass my time romantic

I choose to rhyme, I choose to shine

T'ain't no crime the words I mine

My words flow as susurrus

A litter ate its stuff as such

Ass, Oh, Nance! I say, perchance

Makes smooth my say and vesper rants

Metered in frenetic, melodic rhythms

Squirm phonetic organisms

Orgiastically orchestral orgasmic

In organically spun organza silk

A silver spondee in my mouth

Announced my birth from a place down south

Before they cut my pulsing cord

They strummed impulsively my major chord

I was born for rhyme and rhythm and song

And wine and women--is that so wrong?