The Garden Path

That damn weekly times (circa 1900), Afternoonified with Gigglemugs sending me off my chump Editors Half-rats, Not up to dick, the meater. Genderfied, I am A woman of incredible script, stylograph committed, deemed a whooperup, yet her prose is umble-cum-stumble. The longing expressed through the lovers eye poked-up the meater, who Batty fanged my dyke with his footle His "Enthuzimuzzy" was unwarranted and the mutton shunters were called Collie shangles erupted yet concede he did overcome with blue devils He purchased my script published it last page like a Skilamalink I cared and did not for published I was weekly times circa 1900 I bested the ragger Rough translation - deceived that damn weekly times editors all snobbery and fake smiles sent me crazy The editors drunk, and unwell he's a coward I am a woman a writer, a poet committed to my craft deemed inferior yet my writings are thoroughly understood The topic in question a female lovers romance embarrassed the coward who thoroughly thrashed my lover with his nonsense Ohh the insulting "enthusiasm" was not necessary the police I did call heated arguments won the battle and he apologised - albeit begrudgingly His saddened state, as he was forced to take my manuscript and publish it in the back like some dirty secret. Last page was bothersome yet published I was in the weekly times no doubt, as I defeated that trouble making editor