Make less of crime and spin and grin dispense
For pleasure smells of pain and hurt is naught
All alone to grow no less
But autumn it does slow approach the gaunt
To measure grandiose a canned event
Less elves appear to corner all who beat
To steal the baffled gold and silvered feat
Attack, attack, attack a charm too frail
Stone soup can squish an elf and freeze dry land
More or less to stray the trail
Parquet is wasted under gothic stands
And fortune laughs in all its antique grail
Don’t lessen pins or assuage the dirty lance
A tournament of pretence in village dances
Eat, smear and dichotomize the end
The Viagra-less lord, a poet
Come less the needs of evil on it stand
Pass quickly the sewer gypsies and stroke it
For knees are bent in quantum extoling blends
In passages of lovers keening less
Make stress of crimes and spin and sin defence
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2 comments:
I got more out of this by reading it. your imagery and language works well - I get a picture of a middle earth sort of place.
You've got the pattern down--as I said in class, the trick now is to find ways of making it sound less mechanically regular.
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