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Wrong Hands 
LOL! I’ve (started to) read a few books that should have been just like that!
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I want that job!!
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Keep laughing
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You and me both!
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You are probably depicting that old sheep of the Lake District, Wordsworth! I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud…The Cuckoo…
Yet appointed by a government or conferring institution, they are typically expected to compose poems for special events and occasions.
Ode to an O-train! Boastful Boris doth Bust out. Das Capitol January 6th. Pravda. Floods, Fires, Famines, Oh my. Or as you are want to say, They all Die.
Darkness, my old friend…while you get to bend the light and make the shadows friends.
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And yet, so many poets aspire to the position. 🙂
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Dream job!
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The Sot Weed Factor by Barth?
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