Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "Plus...phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its gamut runs from spam to worse. The po'sy 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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"Quo:Quid::COV:ID" |
e'en Jews would leave sluggish:
The
Merchant of Venice.
Which
threat -- sore unfounder'd --
looms, Van-Dyked ‘n’ thuggish…?
The
Fur-Chin-Tough Menace.
Moral:
Some qualities of mercy strain’d,
while dreadful, leave us entertain’d.
(With a tip of the Uly Poe turban to Mr Dickens.) Note gestes by festive mimes whose crest shows zest of limes, undress'd -- in jest,...
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