I try and will words upon my page

It seems somewhat absurd

To try poetry at my age

But that’s not what I’ve heard


I asked my son the writer

How in the world to start

He said you need to be a painter

Because poetry is an art


I ask if it should rhythm

It seems like such a habit

He said not all the time

Like now, habit rhythms with what? Rabbit


But as a novice I want to

It has such a fun beat

Trying something new

Writing straight is such a feat


So although this poem is an example

Of exactly what not to do

It’s a blaring sample

Of poems from you know who

And in closing, I just want to say

You may not think I’m a poet

Not in any way

I agree and damn well know it

Hip, Hip, Hooray!