Villanelle for Lorriann Centineo

I want to write a freaking villanelle.
(Why should Lorriann have all the fun?)
If you would buy them, I’d have dreams to sell.

When I hear the sledges ringing with the bells,
I can’t pretend I think my work is done:
I want to write a freaking villanelle.

But I’m not sure that you can hear me well,
though I squeeze my words out louder than a gun.
If you would buy them, I’d have dreams to sell.

But what you’d think you’re buying, who can tell?
I fry my fish and slap it on a bun.
That’s how I’ll serve my freaking villanelle.

Maybe you think my lines don’t really gell.
Maybe you think I’m just sucking my thumb.
But if you would buy them, I’d have dreams to sell.

The lambkins are a-leaping in the dell.

The larks are singing with the deaf and dumb.
And I’ve done wrote my freaking villanelle.
Get out your wallet! I have dreams to sell.