Self Promotion Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

I tender the following motion
with much earnest God-given devotion,
that for poets to shout
of things other than gout
smacks of pitiful self promotion.

On the other hand, who is to say,
(in their own little lyrical way)
that a poem is great
(if it isn't a mate)
can you judge Monsieur Claude Monet?

I think mine are exceptional though,
and some day I'll be swimming in dough.
Though I'd never admit
if they truly were shit
either way it's bad manners to crow.