• Poetry Snark
  • Monday, August 07, 2006

    O Sweet Convolescence

    My dearest chappies, such a good while it has been, & I hope that the time has found you feasting at the banquet table of sweet surfeit, a golden fork in one hand & a delicate pastrie hoisted erstwhile in the other. Your host bids adieu to an unwelcome bout of scurrilous proportions, indeed, yes, a rather formidable hybrid of walking pneumonia, the gout & an irritable digestive tract, the details of which I pledge henceforth to keep hidden under lock & key, for the good of your wellbeing, &, indeed, the very efficacy of the world community. I'll here be brief, but pass along the tidings of my merrymakers, yes, yes, B.W. Dictionary himself, friends, & W.C. Rogers as well, both alive & alert & well. All tidings good!


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