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Click herePerhaps I may be overreaching
My flexibility this way.
She says, "Think of a whale, breaching,
In the waters of the bay."
This seems an insult, somehow. Like I
Am really just a fish, a sockeye,
Whose troubles jumping back upstream
Reflect on my inferior genes.
Oh, wait—she said not fish but mammal.
That makes things all OK, I guess:
I sow not milt, sink seed in nest
(Though after very pleasant trávail).
My yearning for heryoni's clear;
Mylingam, sorely, perseveres.
Survivor Poetry Contest
Form I (Onegin Stanza)