Apology
the limericks can’t be eschewed
my muse seems excessive imbued
they seep through the pores
they flood out in scores
seek nuance to coyly allude
It’s not just a trek through lewd grit
perfection is sought for, to whit
there’s meter to wrangle
inference to dangle
infinitives to boldly split
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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