PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS' DIARY-SONNETS 29

My latch shall not me flex to jettisson,So long as bibliocrazy and those its kindred in my bossom lay and date,Butthen in thee sevile,time's frivolities i abhor,Then gaze i in quietus,its lusty vertex should deplete,For all that aesthetics,that dost thee huggermugger,hue and cry,Is but a huffily huff of adophobia,overtly and covertly pronounc'd,Which in thy fathom,doth abide as mine erstwhilegroove;How can i then be overzealous,than these howls of howling wilderness,like that mammoththat throngs on hungermarch,I therefore admonish, adophobiac be of thyself,thy hovel so wary,Gliding in windy sail which i willbedesecrable nor in my bossom lies,As atender bud,my hollow bearing from overbearing mirth,far'd not headlong,Presume not on thy howlings,when mine fowling piece unlike thy blunderbuss andbarneys,tearjerker'd,whereas preys galore,migratory birds shot i they beneath,She gavest her whole bag of tricks at their apotheosis,O hardihood thou gavest thyself to that appoged my vertex,and all treasures trove mine