And tosses it ear to ear,
Juggling the words till the meaning comes clear.
She eats alphabetti spaghetti before she goes to bed
So when she wakes in the night,
There’s poetry running through her head.
She lives her life in rhythm and rhyme,
Tries to make her whole life scan,
And it wrankles her endlessly,
The asymmetrical nature of man.
She wants the world to be a poem
Not some vulgar piece of prose
And the fact that it isn't,
Really gets up her nose.
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