I'm too tired.
Too tired to think of anything
Except that the only possible means
Of me getting this extra credit done
Is to write the student's ace in the hole
That's right, McClure, prepare yourself
For the back way out, the "art"
Of writing free-verse

My skills at free-verse
Are second to none at all
I'm too lazy to open an internet browser
For the purpose of finding a rhyme website
So thus, I will write with no rhyme
And yet the beauty of this is simply
That many would consider this
Compilation of what the kids call "BS"
To be art at its finest;
The purest expression of what is on my mind
And obviously, since this
Has been selected for the literary magazine,
Some poor sucker actually has
Decided that this poem holds
Some deep meaning
What a sap...

And hell, all I have to do is press
The "enter" button every time I think
That a line is getting too long
I needn't worry about anything except
For that "enter" key, because if you're
Going to actually buy this crap that I'm
Shamelessly feeding you, It has to at least
Look like a poem.

And now prepare thyself
(Did you like the use of old English
Such as the word "thy"?)
For the greatest, deepest, most well-thought out
Conclusion to a poem that was ever
Conceived by mankind

On second thought, I am too tired
Too deeply fatigued to even
Put effort into BS-ing- it is indeed an art
And all art takes energy
But I have to write another poem
But it too will be full of BS
Though in a far more subtle sense
Think "deep" thoughts at this point
And give me full credit
Because clearly this poem
Inspired you to think deeply
About the nature of the universe
The nature of BS