A Cautionary Tale

Posted on August 26, 2004 by Jenna

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There was a young sonnet from J. van Wick
That, falling deep and hard to love and need
With that so fickle form the limerick
Engaged in such inhuman acts to please
Its own form’s honor seemed to it diseased.

It learned the ways a lady fair could be
Stripped bare by winds, geometry or rhyme;
Seduced by bears, the faculty, or fleas;
Turned inside out, or upside down in time;
And all the while its spirit gathered grime;

Then came the blow that turned its love to pain:
The lim’rick one day spurned it, harsh and cold:
“I do not know what we through sex can gain
When I can find no poetry in your soul.”