They asked for something plain--
Something about a flower girl,
Something about the rain.
I really don't do simple.
I really don't do clear.
That's not what these eyes look at.
That's not what I can hear.
Obfuscatory nonsense,
Effete and out of touch,
They told me, and I thanked them.
I thanked them very much
And offered them a sonnet,
Recondite and blue.
They said they didn't like it,
Not that it was untrue.
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