This is my final line for the hyperpoem.
And how should I presume
to ask you to make room
to read my rhyming screed
it is a wicked deed
and how should I explain
that when rhyme takes the rein
it drags you where it wants
and bees and elephants
with matters great and small
throng careless in its hall
and should I not despair
of getting anywhere
away from all this gloom
and how should I presume?
Sally Evans
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