Line them up, them good words, them healthy words, them big ol high protein high vitamin words and swallow em. They got some poets can down em dozens at a time, can feed them back to you too, tap tap tap on the keyboard, swoosh on paper, they don't mind. They know what's good and they don't fight it. They don't lie down on they little fat backs and scream they heads off. They don't kick they little feet and screw up they little faces. They pull them little skinny books down out of they bookshelves and they lay them out one after the other and they read and they read and they read and then they write. They take they little black ink pens in they hands and they scribble. My how they do. They don't whine that they don't got no good ink or they pens got lost. They don't fret about they too thin paper or they no idea brains. They shame me, they do.
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