My Poetic License
dreamed 2008/10/5 by Wayan
I stand in line (it's short, today)
at the State Department of Poetry
to renew my poetic license.
A tallish girl at the counter asks
Does it surprise you? After all,
Now it's time to pay, so I
open my mother's checkbook.
Out of work, sick and broke,
I had to ask my mom for a check
just to cover my license-fee.
Trusting, she handed me all.
But I worry--will the SDP
And don't even think about
Comedy Doggerel School! Just jail,
then bureaucratic gobbledygook
for life, with no appeal.
Oh, great! My mother's book is all
I blush, ashamed to stand before
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