In one of my utopias,
you could secure a cup of tea
for haiku jotted on a napkin.
Limericks win you lunch or dinner.

Odes may pay for groceries.
Two quatrains get you on the train.
A sonnet cycle buys the car.
An epic puts you in a house!

Economy of phrase -- how rich!
Reserves of verse worth more than gold!
Yes, fantasy, of course, my friend.
Just let me dwell on that delight

-- or quote me Frost or Angelou,
and I'd be wealthy through the night!