ADVICE TO MY DAUGHTERS
Never marry a man, my dear, who works with words, because
When the sink develops a leak his hands will turn to fuzz.
He'll write you lovely sonnets and create a brilliant trope,
But when it comes to car repairs he's just a simple dope.
He'll build you castles in the air, on gossamer foundation;
But when the mortgage isn't paid you'll hate his damn vocation.
His conversation sparkles like the dew upon the dawn;
You're the one who winds up going out to mow the lawn.
Words are funny things, my dear; we need 'em, that's for sure;
Yet ultimately nothing in your life can they secure.
A carpenter or plumber or a farmer is the thing
To keep your house in order, straighten out a fender ding.
Love the poet all you want, but marry a mechanic;
Otherwise you'll live your life in constant, literate panic.
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