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Surrogate Poet The poet sends his apologies, that due to unforseen circumstances he cannot keep this engagement. Now before you leave, I must relate to you that he waited here at the prescribed time and place for you to appear. He primped his prosody and honed his recession of technique; alliterated until sated that his rhythm and meter were not offbeat. But something happened while considering the subjunctive mood and the juxtaposition of an overstressed line. Suddenly, he spoke of copula and half meaning. I thought this to be an epithet of the personification of his state of mind. He then proceeded to spew out gibberish in abstraction. Violette the triolet is short but can pack a wallop. Ah! But Emanuelle the villanelle really likes her escargot. The tension threshold seemed high and true to the law of simplified focus and in a total inversion he shouted out, Give me release from this enjambment. And end-stopped his persona.
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