Here's another fine mess
you've gotten me into.
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.)
Sunday, November 10, 2024
A Visit From Saint Nick Revisited, Stanzas I and II: "The Eve" and "The Stockings"
I
'Twas the
eve before
eve before
Xmas Eve.
'Round my a-
'Round my a-
bode, feelings --
spite, greed, im-
patience -- ran
high...and it
show'd.
II
Stockings --
dozens -- were
flung 'round the
hearth without
care. (I'd hoped
Santa would
leave me wa-a-ay
more than my
share.)
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