All my best, bad philosophy derives
From the bird in the kid's book who opines
"Why make little problems into big ones?"
While my worst, good behaviors come from dumb
Lips of divinity and Dr Seuss,
Rhyming their incantations to my muse
(Oi! Chanteuse!) so that she can ignore me
To twist my every badly healed phoneme
Into another spiral fractured verse,
As if, beyond slant rhymes, there could be worse.
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