Oh, hi there.
I suppose I should have been helping out with the First Seminannual Daily Hey Catch-up Freakout Event, but I’ve been sort of dry on content. Lucas deserves a break, though, so here I go.
Here’s a poem I wrote for a girl one time. I sent it to her and I think she liked it, but things never really went anywhere. Maybe just as well, we weren’t really into singin’ the same kinds of Christmas songs anyway.
Some of you will no doubt see right through this riddle and devine who the recipient, indeed, was. Well, good for you.
“a gross sin lecture”
A recluse is strong.
Select a gross ruin.
Censure a toss girl
a screen-gilt Russo.
Girl, sort us a scene
(a recess girl, not us.)
I run a secret gloss,
a relic russet song.
A nice slug resorts
a nice gross result,
a gross incest lure.
Resist a cruel song,
a cruel sister song
(a ‘cruel’ is ten gross.)
A census store girl,
escorts a lug siren.
Cage, less iron rust =
angelic Eros truss.
(Rig nose-lace truss,
lace sure is strong.)
Sin, rustle corsage,
creating sure loss–
nor is tussle grace,
lost sunrise grace.
“Nuclear Regis Toss!”
sung Sister Oracle.
Clear surge isn’t so
clear I guess (snort.)
Stern social surge,
clang is sour, terse.
Sure, no less tragic.
Tragic lesson, sure.
So resent surgical
sunset, garlic rose
Girl causes Sterno
(‘cause girl so stern.)
Caress it sure, long.
Caress is true, long.
Caress “Senor Guilt.”
Caress, let us groin.
Sure, sign scare ‘lot.
Sure sign lost race.
Race loss isn’t urge,
coarse sunset girl.
Care less, sung Tori.
Care less, so grunt I.
“Less rigour, ascent!”
sung Sir O’ercastle.
“Slur Ocean-Tigress!”
(gross inert clause.)
Care, grit, soulness.
Sure, go sin scarlet.