Ramble

If I had to keep my first drafts I would be
more like Rod McKuen than Theodore Roethke.
If I could not afford to take a chance on fumbling a line
my poetry would more resemble Mother Goose than Gertrude Stein.

If I was not allowed the luxury of using cheap tricks and fun
I would never be able to approach the beauty of Emily Dicksinson.
My dead mentors are Don Marquis and Ogden Nash
And I wear my subtle humor like a handlebar mustache.

I once won a woman's heart by composing a half dozen limericks
Which, while not overtly dirty, will still embarrass me in front of both dudes and chicks.
I guess it's good that I still have a moral compass
And I engage in ludicrous rhymes to keep from becoming pompass.