Six slugs sail'd straight through,
leaving zilch residue:
All (rat-a-tat-) tat and no shrapnel.
All (rat-a-tat-) tat and no shrapnel.
Poet Poe pens nonsense verse. "...plus phun," puns Uly, "I disburse." Its 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.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Rev'd Spooner Meets Rev'd Carroll
He sought to thaw each thought he saw flee, frozen, from his mind. He peer'd again, then gear'd his pen, supposin' he'd...
-
PWWL is pleased to acknowledge the participation of friend-of-blog JD in creating this item. Collaboration in name, collaboration in pro...
No comments:
Post a Comment