A late Ode for my Publisher
By A.E.D. Wadsworth
Their punctuality sooths my inner sloth
They forget the odd capital and mark of question
But my works are on time
Unlike my own rhymes
Which neither have a time nor a direction
Perhaps I should write ten at a time
Cough cough
I’ve done that already
It was fun
I felt special
So I thank you for your acceptance
Your artistic digestion
No matter how blunt or racial
I know I’m no poet
And yes I do know it
And with my poems you can’t be expectant
And thank you for Gerry
And on the contrary
Thank you master
I really owe you
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