The Spoonbill Generator

Gabriel's Hiccoughs

Sledgehammer? I thought to use a shovel [Apsley]

to bury your body in the eternally deep rubble [Anon.]

That ensnares the source of the Nile (or Dart) [Apsley]

And to the crocodiles throw your black, black heart. [fester]

There's no metre that runs from line to line, [Apsley]

Six feet, twelve syllables would be Alexandrine; [fester]

Whereas, iambic, goes the line of ten, [Apsley]

It matters no jot to us Renaissance men [Beefy]

When once I've killed you, peace will not be mine, [Apsley]

I'll never know true peace until I find my feet [Beefy]

To be the true companions of my soul... [Apsley]

Contributors: Apsley, Anon., fester, Beefy.
Poem finished: 14th May 2002.