Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

The first cigarette is all you’ve got. 

From the second, it’s a downhill trot. 

You might as well not smoke it, 

so little does it satisfy. 

You might as well stroke it 

like a pet, sniff it and say, Oh my! 

This is the law of farm, forest and city, 

rapidly diminishing marginal utility, 

once learned, never forgotten, 

applicable, alas, to everything, 

kisses, earthquakes, the nobly rotten, 

cars, guitars, bliss on the wing. 

Sunsets on Mars are blue. 

Sometimes purple too. 

An octopus dreaming changes color  

from pale yellow to camo to black. 

Its suckers light up, synapses follow. 

It has a large brain and a knack 

for the avoidance of pain. 

I’ll never eat octopus again. 

Utility doesn’t always diminish in value. 

It can start at the bottom of the graph, 

never to rise, never to accrue 

gains or losses. Go ahead and laugh.