Mrs. Frost to husband Robby:
"How come you're always writing about nature?
Can't you write about anything else?"
Mrs. Donne to husband Johnny:
"How come you're always writing about death?
Can't you write about anyone alive?"
Mrs. Shakespeare to husband Willy:
"How come you're always writing about royalty?
Can't you write about any ordinary people?"
If there had been some national convention
of wives of poets and playwrights,
how many fewer works of art
would there have been?
Their husbands, better with ink and pen,
would have helped out with more domestic chores,
no doubt prompting more domestic tranquility,
but this state of affairs would have decreased
the number of poems and plays given to the world,
thus abetting the fall of civilization as we know it.