This is your automatically generated poem for today.
So now the bard spurns iambs and trochees
and sniffs the smoke that sets his nose aglow
he'd much to learn despite his four degrees
you hear your spouse pay off the medico.
Remember friends those isles where live your Friese
so keen to part poor bumpkins from their dough
we chill like nudists put on ice to freeze
when parents sanctify the babygro.
Plato's Hellas surely wasn't sot
in Florence tourists see a deal of grot
you can't quote Virgil in a limousine.
Those transalpine relations interlock?
we're sorry that no whales came back to dock
the shield of vair or gold is but briefly seen.
