I’ll tell you Tom, what’s in there
though you are rather young—
a life form that is sure to scare
still on the lowest rung.
It’s a lowly thing most men disdain
and wish they’d never seen,
for fear it will infect your brain
it’s kept in quarantine.
It breaks out sometimes (like a rash)
and gets onto a page
then all the critics have a bash
and all the poets rage.
Tom, get yourself an antidote,
but in the meantime praise.
Erato folk who say, I quote—
“We’ve locked up all cliches!”
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