Poetry doesn’t pay the bills.
**** and *** will.
***** and hiney
on a waist that’s tiny.

They’ll throw their money
on someone’s honey.
None read. It’s a chore.
They’re closing down the bookstore.

The greats die great.
The unpublished will wait
til their ***** turns gray.
Turn the channel to Bobby Flay.

The only cherry that doesn’t shrink
is the cherry floating in her drink.