In his repetend nightmare,
he virelayed down the enjambment,
dropping his epode while he fled
from lions-o’-rhymed-tales
that beat quatrains into migraines.
He nearly went into anapaestic shock
when spondees scanned him,
peeking into his pyrrhic;
trochees tried to truncate his epistle;
and iambs elisioned him,
(with a pterrordactyl as guard doggerel),
after he fell in the distich, tropping –
over his own feet. It was awdl!
One day he’d escape in a syntaxi,
find caesura, catalect himself
and wake up entirely vers libre!
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