one day the poet Herodia
of ancient Pincaeia
found in the garden
a note thrown in over the wall:

dear poet
do not sing us of unpleasant things;
do not make us think:
sing us of love instead
a poem about a kiss is far easier to read
(some *** would make it even more memorable)
and poems on light matters
are better on one's brains
rather than a poem
where one has to ponder over things


and the poet Herodia
of ancient Pincaeia
from then on
was never heard of;
nor, for that matter,
was ever Pincaeia