Steal it and sell to to a receiver of stolen goods -- fence posey.

I tried for years to succeed as a poet, but success simply eluded me. I'd often be found attempting to lure the Muse, calling "Here, poesy, poesy, nice poesy" but it never worked. Not even when I put out some nice warm milk. Finally, I took to writing invective and stories, but I was only going from pillory to prose while posing in poesy, so I went back to my True Love -- lies and puns.