Vachel's Rhyme Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Goodly drunk fools conversing by their pools,
Investing all their time in business and not rhyme;
Look at their children good behaving as their should,
They shall grow up tall and speechless down the hall;
And the women there with pale freckles and fare hair,
Sipping their glass in time I think to make them mine,
But it will do no good for things are as they should,
Their gossip is not mine they care nothing for the rhyme.