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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Tuesday, February 27, 2024
The Ghosts of Gammer Grosnez; or, The Mad Non-Binary Olfactor's Song: Tercet the Third
"We thought we smelt some madeleines
ala Les Temps Perdu. We whiff'd once more and...Zut! Alors!
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