Very Little with Much
I had the thought of a poem in which,
I'd say very little with much
and I'd talk and tap and turn and twist,
but my words would but kick up dust.
I had a thought of a poem for which,
I'd make a good bit of noise,
and I'd romp and blast and banter and spit,
but my words would have no poise.
I had a thought of a poem for which,
I'd have very little to say,
and I'd write and whittle and draw and fiddle,
but my words would be but a play.
I wrote that poem, now just now,
in the words I wanted to write it
and it had three parts and an ending,
and it ended with the word 'goodbye'.
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