Beware!

He wears rags,
He doesn't look very clean.
All day he sits in pubs
Scribbling on scruffy bits of paper.
Beware: he is a P.O.E.T!

She dresses funny,
She never married,
She lives alone
With her cats and her computer.
Beware: she is a P.O.E.T.!

He cannot keep a job,
He cannot keep a wife,
His address is always changing,
But he can sit for hours wirting.
Beware: he is a P.O.E.T.!

Her sink is full of dishes,
Her floors are never swept,
Her children run wild
While she hides to write.
Beware: she is a P.O.E.T.!

He got a good education,
But he spat at all he was given.
What he did cannot be told in polite company.
They say he is living in the desert...
Beware: he is a P.O.E.T.!

Her children have grown up,
She is going back to school.
She is learning yoga and meditation.
She must be at least fifty!
Beware: she is a P.O.E.T.!

He died a hundred years ago
After writing fifty books of poems.
Now children at school must learn them by heart
Instead of having fun.
Beware: he is a P.O.E.T.!

So they speak while I, innocently,
Serve the meal and wash the dishes,
My head modestly covered,
My mouth modestly closed,
But I watch my husband from the corner of my eye.
Will he reveal my awful secret?
'Beware: she is a P.O.E.T.!'