I steal a word today from an authentic poet and playwright.

Normally, honest as well as truthful,

I confiscate it concomitantly as you read this confession.

Here, lifted right from his copy-protected work,

laboring like a magician or illusionist,

you will not perceive the theft.

And no, the poet will not be aware of my vile act

as he has already died, but I’ll know,

and therefore must thank his spirit.

Thanks for reminding me to employ a word

that I so love, but have failed to intone

or write in such an exceedingly long time.

You, the reader will not know the location

as I will not point out exactly where,

within these sentences, that it rests.

However feeble my scruples,

it would not permit such forfeiture

of my honorificabilitudinitatibus.