To Mr. W. H., the onlie begetter

When I was just a freshman, I made bank
by writing sonnets at five bucks a pop.
The athletes at my school had me to thank
for passing senior English with this slop.
Neither dark lady nor fair youth inspired 
this verse – a touchdown or a three-point shot 
or famous player that they all admired.
I was so good that none of us got caught.
Not too good, though – we were never fools.
The five feet iambed rather awkwardly 
and rhymed just well enough to fit the rules – 
a quarterback just needs a B or C.
Yes, avarice and poetry can clash:
Sometimes we write for love, sometimes for cash.

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Sharon Hoffmann is a writer based in Atlantic Beach, Florida. Publications (past and forthcoming) include The Hooghly Review, New York Quarterly, Beloit Poetry Journal, Alice Walker: Critical Perspectives (Harvard University Press), Magazine1, Paddler Press, South Florida Poetry Journal, Letters, Wild Roof, Sho Poetry Journal, Blood+Honey, Burial, and other magazines. Awards include fellowships from Atlantic Center for the Arts and Florida’s Division of Cultural Affairs, three Pushcart nominations and a nomination for Best Spiritual Literature.