How to Succeed in Publishing

If I had the urge to write,

And was brazen, not contrite,

Then I'd rather be a killer than a writer,

For I'd sooner get a deal,

And a flashy rest'rant meal,

If I'd killed my bairnies three with bloody mitre.

I'd be a cause célèbre,

Not some ordinary pleb,

And I wouldn't write my story in my attic,

For they'd send to me a ghost,

He'd be humble, never boast,

And I'd have my million seller, automatic.

So don't labour with that pen,

In your humble poet's den,

There's a quicker route to cash and fame and glory,

Just kill your cheating wife,

And extinguish out her life,

And then watch the offers flow in for your story.