PROFESSOR ABRAHAM SONNETS'DIARY.SONNET-124

Do not slack to throw a banquet and at dusk goes to your rest,let its chains bind thee and charms feed thee when thou art sown and tilleth the acidulous sand;for when thou art laid thy carapace,thy sweet vision shalt never lie,Fire thy bazooka in thy morn to beard nefarious lion in its den,this acidulous landmines,when thy beatnik bedraggledand beautitudes spawn'd by the immortalizer,the old lady of the st.blues'golden morn,time's beforehand surmount'd,Beneath this slope,backward violet grimaces,This strays as they stray'd but above thisfriction,forward violets steadfast aplomb,whereon with theold lady,they cut a distiction,Toarraign bestrewed bestiality of time,O that its halitosis of murky bellicose be bewitch'd and bewilder'd,ere those blackclouds,betoken a storm,To bill and coos,gravy trains nigh and afar off,for a round robin billet doux of the appogee,There is no buffer under heaven,beneath hell by which minnows and minnions mt.everest billy o's climb'd,except if it be a good billet of this good saviour