I found this poem tucked away on a thread on Kindleboards. I think we indie writers have found our Kerouac.
The Thinking Vampire
John Locke was a philosopher ―
He shared the world with Pepys,
Whose diaries cure insomnia,
And thus they sell in heaps.
Imagine my surprise on hearing
Locke is selling too.
I'd thought none read philosophy
It seems that millions do.
I've tried his work myself, and while
I don't deny he's clever,
I never thought he'd make it with
Such cerebral endeavour.
I think the lookout's poor for all
I gloomily confess,
When millions read philosophy
And still the world's a mess.
I told a friend, who said “I find this
In a world that's run by vampires.
Do you read Amanda Hocking?”
“I've never even heard of her,”
I said, “What has she written?”
He told me that she tells the tales
Of ladies who are smitten
By dead men who've returned to life.
I said “My patience fails.”
“It would,” he said, “if you could see
Her quite enormous sales.”
It's true I sell no books
And nor does Jennifer or Connor
Or Kimberly or Nicholas:
Ours the Beige Bar of Honour.
But soon my sales will soar because
I now know where it's at:
I'm working on a book about
A philosophic bat
Buy one of his books so he doesn't bust my chops about stealing content...