For here’s a verse in praise of a square:
Mind you, the only one that would, truly,
Waste thy clock & my rhyming verily
What no one would beget or even dare.
I thought I penciled this once & did share
The ignorance for all; but ‘tween you & me
I must’ve deleted the irony
To save thy ears from praises of the square.
But here’s my praise, not out of ambition
Or to call those Nine that help the epic,
But for you, O reader, on this angle
That any verse can have a conclusion
Out of nothing, to give health or make sick,
To waste lines on the homage of a square.