He sat to my right in class,
never did much,
he simply wrote through the lesson,
maybe that's why he couldn't pass.

He spoke of limericks and sonnets,
he loved haikus and free verse;
he liked talking but hated listening,
so he always failed the tests.

He told me he published a book,
in fact I saw it, placed on his desk.
I asked if I could take a look,
maybe then he'd let me rest.

He kept on talking even then,
wouldn't let me hear the lesson,
but I did not want to offend,
so I smiled till the end.

He failed the class my poet friend,
but I heard he had another book,
he goes by selling it to public libraries,
maybe one day I'll take a look.