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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Wednesday, August 24, 2022
The Alien Spoon
Determin'd, she, to have a ball. The monks have gather'd, mange 'n' all. Last o' the red-hot mamas / Mass'd are the head-rot lamas.
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