A fogey who tells a predictive texter
who doesn't bother to proof-read,
that he won't reply
to frurbded, deorbd or ntarf,
but will to pracey for precis,
is a fogey who likes a laugh;
is like a reader
who tries but doesn't reply
to a poem that's a bit obtuse,
but sent one that's funny
might send money.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem