Y’all’s rock dismantles scissors? Y’all claim vic’try for y’all’s labor.
Y’alls scissors severs paper? Y’all’s one parchment-shreddin' sabre.
But, lest
y’all’d assure all’s “mutuy'all!”
destruction, bite y’all’s caber!
Uly Poe pens dogg'rel verse. "'Tis fun," hums Uly, "I disburse." The gamut runs from bad to worse. The matter treated...? Quite diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a blessing largely. (Not a curse.)
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