To the folks who are reading this without social media prompting, mostly in Russian and Ukrainian, I expect, I apologize for being away on travel. I don't have access to my usual backlog of writing drafts and I haven't quite finished the next Not Zen story. All I've got this week is a habit of lampooning well-known poetry.
Wordy Days
Wordy poems have we dismembered
Murdered, slurred, and mis-remembered
And all the rest were sort of fun
Excepting literary
Which has stuff we hate
But despite our drinks of private whine
To the students, we assign.
-----[ the original ]-----
Thirty Days
Thirty days hath September
April, June, and November
All the rest have thirty-one
Excepting February
Which has twenty-eight
But in leap year we assign
To February, twenty-nine.
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