Sonnet To The Moon
Poem By Yvor Winters
It is a service we provide,
To meet an ever booming need
Of customers that are world wide,
Of all religion, race and creed.
We scout the park and shopping mall,
Looking for what's in such demand.
You stroll into our beck and call,
And what we want is at your hand.
Satisfied you have the right stuff,
Making exchange is simply styled.
One of us distracts you enough,
To let the other take your child.
It's nothing personal, you see;
But we like that fat finder's fee.