I never knew

 I never knew

john clare 

Upon the eating

Of the pork chop

Special

Grilled 

Not as fattening 

He asked me

Who this 

John Clare

Fellow was

I said 

He was a poet

He lived in the 1700's

I never knew him

Upon the take out tea

Sweet

Fattening

I told him

It was me

I wrote the poetry 

He looked at me

Doubting

I never knew.

Upon the driving home

I told my wife

Do I not only speak 

In rhyme

All the time

And he never knew

And she said

I wouldn't know.

And the tea was sweet

And fattening 

This we knew.