I have been contributing really second-rate verses to these columns and attributing them to fictitious second-rate poets (with corny names and even cornier publishers and titles from corny days gone by) for some time. I am delighted, not to say flattered, to see this template of risible art has finally taken root in the rich BS around Mom's feet, where ANYTHING can blossom and most everything does.

Many thanks, Doctor Rapaire.

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