How pretentious can you get
When you describe the purpose of your prose’s intent.
Let’s start with your Sonnet’s
That always make me want to vomit.
They are as empty as your Blank Verse
Which makes my mouse do a complete reverse.
Have you forgotten that the dictionary is quite thick,
As you hopelessly try your hand at Limerick?
Then there are times when you default to Haiku
Which despite what my friend says, is not always “hi IQ.”
But when the chips are down, you write Free Verse.
Knowing your brain can’t pull together a Rhymed Verse.
Then we have your Quatrain.
Oy gevalt! What a pain.
In the end me thinks that your Encomium for self
Is in fact the source of your deep seated delirium, nothing else.
Finally as my parting shot I must confess,
What's with those damn Argyle vests?

LOL….
Oh I am so bad tonight…
This is what happens when I don't get enough kisses.
Hahahahahahaha...