One Mark Of Good Verse Is Surprise

Oh Wasn't It Naughty Of Smudges? Oh, Mummy, I'm Sick With Disgust. She Threww Me In Front Of The Judges, And My Silly Old Collar-bone's Bust.

It's Strange That Those We Miss The Most Are Those We Take For Granted.

Imprisoned In A Cage Of Sound, Even The Trivial Seems Profound

Lord, Reserve For Me A Crown, And Do Not Let My Shares Go Down.

I Ought To Warn You That My Verse Is Of No Interest To People Who Can Think.