Hey Pompous Fuck, Is This A Poem?


A Shakespearean sonnet by any other name, in this case, suck and archaic.

Alliteration is over rated! Ask any arbitrary author and they will agree,
Even concur, it’s as simple as picking up a dictionary and reciting six entries
In a row, and if you read it fast enough, it’s a God damn tongue twister,
The lowliest form of art, ranked just above the useless pun.

Let’s face it, the next asshole who dares to use a metaphor, and someone will,
Single-handedly destroys literature as we know it, or worse, saves it.
When wishes become dishes and there just aren’t enough dishwashers,
There will be a purge, mediocrity will be judged on a scale of one to five.

Who the hell are we to critique anything, especially when we are voyeurs
To inconvenient artwork like Luddites to technology.
Just because something is composed in fourteen lines does not a sonnet make.
Can form override the intention of the artist like a puppet over a puppeteer?

Alas, it is the obvious difference between twins, triplets and quintuplets.
Regardless of pentameter, a sonnet usually ends in a rhyming couplet.

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