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.)
Through the fence, between the curling flower spaces...
...three Harpwig FC wheels (NG) 'n' three-foot Cucu beetles (NG)...
...two strikers and a goalie from the recently relegated Yorkshire football club and several exceedingly tall insects imported from Amazonia -- and nary a one of 'em any good...
Now is the winter of our discontent...
...wet feet, no oro sun, thin cows in dirt...
...and my damn back is killin' me.
(Conceived by George Orwell's language expert Mr Symes and dedicated to actress Tammy Grimes --with a tip 'o the Uly Poe turban to M...
