When I heard the news, I practically choked:
My poetic license had been revoked!
It seems that the Central Poetry Board
Decided it was over me they'd lord
By taking away my avocation,
From which I gain no remuneration.
I found their reasoning convoluted,
They found my reaction less than muted:
I vowed not to go from better to worse
By writing any of their fine free verse!
I'll take my metrical lines underground
Before I make verse without sense or sound.
But worst was the "crime" that incited this measure:
They claimed I'd been giving my audience pleasure!
Peter Saint-Andre > Writings > Ancient Fire