Weekly Sonnet 7

Prepupational Locomotion

Ye miserable, crawling worms come ag-
ain, then have you? Out of your doomed houses
with inambitions sprawling backwardly.
Lingeringly and flickeringly good!
only in August and not always then.
Finally after strolling the moors cov-
ered in mud, “That’s dashed awkward,” Meyerburg says.

Great Aunt Ada saw something nastily
ev’ryhing-depends-on-mein the wood-
shed (or the potting shed or the). Thus gen-
erations must remain in irksome love.

A(h)da(h) Veen cannot drink tea from a mug.
Let double V writhe and curl around. You

(but) can be happy if you’ve a mind to.