PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-111

Not contrite with its contrition,coldheaded and hardly cop a plea,yet still cop it,Not greasy,gritty to the teeth but barely grizzle,gravy,obstreperous but not to gripe with grist to the mill,grotesquely,ineluctably not the groggy infantryman at this juncture thy jumping off whereon jinks might get rid of junk thee,Then mightest thou thee this inculpate incubus infested,for then were not thee kaput,But then having this guille that wrinkles,why didst thou abhor moult?Thou still canst not thyselfbe freed from its instigated wrinkles,in thy sordid cheeks;Over whichthy insouciance defies inspectorate quotient,insurgent feet are gray chalks and barely to all intents an internecine and blatant interdict of intelligentsia,Of inverse proportion as the gimcrack spring doth inviolably grow,my velvet impalpable impale,were it mortal thy attrition felt,Would in thy implosion impious or seemingly impishly and implacably importunant importunating,Bid thyself this impinge of impiety or like an impunity trip upon imputation.