What though you dabble in newspaper diction,
Common reporters deserve your disdain;
You should be ranked with the masters of fiction,
Weaving your victories out of your brain.
Stories are needed, and you must supply 'em;
That should be easy; so gifted a man
Surely can compass a triumph per diem,
Seeing the truth is no part of your plan.
Even although inspiration is flagging,
Let not your output grow markedly less;