(Like an auction) then knock down your hero.
Gain the fool’s laugh, dare the author’s sorrow.
I shall never in the years remaining,
Paint you pictures, lucky that for you, chum!
Nor make music, that would send your fingers
Straight to plug your ears, but my delusion
This of rhyming letters, bear in patience
Verse and worse, I have and still will send you,
Others’ rhymes and others’ poems twitting,
All their jokes and mine for you—my own chum.