Good grief—what fools these poets be!
Striving to commit lines to memory,
ignoring a woman sitting there with moist lips
while hoping for a shot at posterity.
Take your mind off the words running through it
and take a look at those hips!

Put down your pen, close up the book,
lift up thine eyes and take a look.
She’s unignorable and adorable, right in plain view–
you’re not seriously going to let her off the hook?
She’s pouring herself another drink, et vous?
For God’s sakes, man—have one too!

Then again—perhaps you shouldn’t
or tomorrow you’ll regret that you couldn’t.
Shellfish, oysters and zinc pills are what’s called for.
A wood chuck would chuck no wood if he wouldn’t
is enough poetry for tonight—no more;
I’ll see you darling on the floor.