While you are writing your poem,
there’s one less scoundrel in the world.
there’s one less scoundrel— Ted Kooser
But all I want to do is keep seducing
Bimbos, scalping tickets, kiting checks,
Subverting governments, whatever’s next
That has a subterranean chance of goosing
The status quo. Who else these days knows more
Than poets about the subtle snark that stings
The fashionable, the ultra-cool? Who brings
More scorn to bear on fame’s revolving door?
Yet now you claim each time I take my pen
In hand I’m good instead? Oh what a stinker
Of a notion! Great god! I’d rather be
A pagan, or a used-car salesman, slinker
Around corners, than faux poetically
Uplifting on a peak in Darien.