Publish

“Please publish these poems; we don’t mean to gush,

But it’s just not right for them to be kept all hush-hush!”

I’m too young to listen and too old to blush

And too stewed to say more than  “Thank you very mush.”

Good Wendy has her book, and David his own,

And Stephen and Kenny, my! His is a tome.

There’s Bobby and Rolly and Who’s-got-a-poem

The binding is cheap and the paper’s home-grown.

Don’t order a thousand to get a good rate

Six hundred and twelve will deteriorate

As the mold and the must that is vanity’s fate

Consume all of the glory that first felt so great.

Just put them on web sites and see who click-clicks

You know that print royalties’re only for hicks

Books that are published are heavy as bricks

Pixels and ‘lectrons give much greener kicks.

I think I’ll just ‘ttach them to emails to friends

They’ll weep, laugh, and cringe in their kitchens and dens

I’ll put in a Pay-Pal and hope they hit “send”

To donate, at will, so my ends can meet ends.

Chris Dedrick

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