PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS' DIARY.SONNET- 108

O why chapfallen,if its purport be not slavish and clanger'd?If it be not clanger'd 'neath this claymore mine,if it be smashhit,was the tender glory, which cinched and clean-limbed in a circadian ryhmic clangour of naivety pokes,With thy classconsciousness,not to for once jest Karl Marx's class struggle,beyond clarts and claptrap,clap eyes on silvermoon,This cleft,clingy and sturdy as the cam of the camshaft,a cloister clipp'd for a walk above the plank but frosty,they the coldblooded pyrates routed,If thou wilt slay sweet vision,thy charm for glorious manhood,shall have been slammed and butchered,if thou wilt slave sweet vision and its manacles,thy gravy trains shall forever be obliterat'd,O sweet vision in thy county lays apotheosis,o sweet vision,thou borough of rhapsody at thy concert pitch,stolid vale burns with silvermoon,coarsed dampsquib with the agony of the beneath,Doth not a dint quench the constellation of its galaxy of stars ferocious burning of the bluesky with its platinum and emerald torches.