Wandered, by Elizabteh Ketchup

The art of mispelling isn't hard to master;
so many sentences seem made to be meant
to be awk that their ward is no disaster.

Transpose something every day. Accept that your
modifier dangles, the affect badly lent.
The art of misplacing isn't hard to master.

Then mix up less & fewer, Grammar Führer:
split your infinitives, and let some clauses than
unravel. You can still earn you're Master's.

Lose something in translation. And look! my vocal mustard
mustered and flustered my poor mother to repent.
The art of miswording isn't hard to cuck and fluster.

Commit some lovely cardinal syntax or,
attack some impactful word salad, I dreamt
I could of done alot better, thereafter.

—Despite any confusion (the passive voice was used
by me) I fantasize I can reinvent
the art of wording, it tastes a lot like laughter
though it may look like (Rite it!) like the answer.