A novel bootlegger,
A fighter for fiction,
And a rebellious reader
Whisper in smuggler’s diction.
Illiterate watchmen
Now prowl the scribblers’ den.
They want what’s real, not lies,
That the poetic privateer provides.
Their eyes scorch like torches
At Fahrenheit 451.
They are blind, but forces
Divorces for lovers of the pun.
They feed each other mythic sources.
They keep alive the classic corpses.
