An unholy indisposition to everything sublime. A tight knot In the pit of the mind’s stomach That instantaneously churns whenever any literary aim Crosses it Transcending all “schools” of thought Known and imaginable to man. Thoughts go a muck And in no time bit by bit A mouthwatering piece is birthed and it’s so much fun
Rhyme's simply sublime and seldom leaves a lime aftertaste in one's 'literary' taste buds