It’s easy to fall in love with yourself,
write a story about your life and your work.
To raise a child, it takes a villanelle.

Act I finds you married and happy as hell,
climbing the ladder, working like a Turk.
It’s easy to fall in love with yourself.

In Act II, you’re getting into the part—more than you can tell,
you’re a jerk. But who’s complaining? Look at the perks!
To raise a child, it takes a villanelle.

Then you wake up one day and you can’t even sell
your own kids on themselves—you think it’s just one of their quirks.
It’s easy to fall in love with yourself.

You’ve spent all your time on the complicated plot—you thought
      that’s what would sell.
But you’ve lost the characters somewhere in the murk.
To raise a child, it takes a villanelle.

The answer is not in cutting the acts or adding in order to tell
what you can only feel in verse.
It’s easy to fall in love with yourself.
To raise a child, it takes a villanelle.



© 2004 by Terry Lucas