Petrarch
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O, Petrarch, your caramel ganache cream
Surrounded by milk choc'late, and inlaid
With jeweléd pralines, that from nuts are made
Dissolves in mouths as softly as a dream.
The taste, enough to make young females scream,
Their bosoms heave, their inhibitions fade.
It fills their minds with thoughts of getting laid;
Their cheeks flush red, their eyes begin to gleam.
The fine taste that my torrid tongue engaged,
Enraptured all my sweet taste buds to bloat.
I grinned as pleasure flowed throughout my brain,
and yet, whene'er I've read your verse, I've raged!
I wish that you had ne'er a sonnet wrote,
Article written in the style of its subject This article is funny because it is written in the real or imagined writing style of its subject. If you do not find it funny, it is because you are an ignorant cultural philistine on account of having not consumed the same media the writer has. Shame on you. |