I wrote this for a talented young poet from Portland called Dave Jarecki who claimed that he didn't like Shakespeare!
O mistress mine it is thou who hast shot thine wing tipped poison
into the heart of our fair faced progeny as he sleeps
Oh wretched canker blossom now he loveth not the Bard
Thanks to thine evil witch hag curse
I, who hast bestowed on him the gift of making miraculous verse
like ripples of silver and gold in pearl shimmer'd utterance
am known not to mine rose cheeked kinsman, the youthful Alcaeus
who mirrors in feature and figure fine Romeo now destined to
grunt and sweat under a weary life
How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child
Why, what an ass I am to have wed thee and not portented
the heartache and a thousand natural shocks
Such wicked revenge is steeped in malice Oh vile strumpet
and all for the sake of the second best bed
Note: From Shakespeare's will
'I gyve unto my wyfe my second best bed"
How many Shakespeare plays are represented in this poem?
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