(2/16) It's grey,
(2/17) my frien,'
(2/18) it's grey...
(2/19) ...again.
(2/20) It's grey.
(2/21) Since when...?
(2/22) Ten days
(2/23) 'tis been --
(2/24) ten out
(2/25) o' ten.
Uly Poe pens dogg'rel verse. "Such phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." The gamut runs from spam to worse. The matter posted...? Poe's diverse -- most, postcards from his universe, replies to grudges he must nurse. My summary...? Let me be terse: a mitzva, mostly. (Not a curse.)
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...And Another Thing...: Seven Miniature Four-Panel Faux Exquisite Corpses And Their Respective Sets Of Verses With Texts Derived From Puns Based On Homonyms To The Vocable 'Ex/Quis/It(e)/Corpse'
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