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I can see why a poem like that can be frustrating as it seems like something anyone could have made. It definitely is head scratching.

Out of boredom, I did a parody piece of that poem today.

    It was hot

    She dreamed of ice

    She got up and took

    the last popsicle

    It was lemon flavored

    I got hot

    I dreamed of ice as well

    I got up

    I wanted a popsicle

    I saw that she was eating

    the last popsicle

    They were in her luscious lips

    All she could say was, "I'm

    sorry I ate the last

    popsicle, it was delicious."

    All I could say to that

    was, "I'm sorry I'm not

    William Carlos Williams,

    by the way we have no

    more plums."