… So, praise the gods, Catullus is away!
And let me tend you this advice, my dear
Take any lover that you will, or may
Except a poet. All of them are queer

It's just the same- a quarrel or a kiss
Is but a tune to play upon his pipe
He's always hymning that or wailing this
Myself, I much prefer the business type

That thing he wrote, the time the sparrow died
(Oh, most unpleasant- gloomy, tedious words!)
I called it sweet, and made believe I cried
The stupid fool! I've always hated birds….