|So can you, Bill, give clones or I’ll lose face?|
This meter sings, but lacks some content speed
This form of verse is hard to write with grace
An algorithm tight and neat I need.
Especially for now, your topic strains
Bad luck, I cannot rhyme your strange entry
To be a master writer tries the brains
My passion here you see is cranking glee.
But testing, prodding, oh I do feel your blow
For what you type in my website as shown
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe
A phrase, a word, a blurb, it’s clear I’m thrown.
My network graph is vast! It burns and pops,
Computer crafted prose, it never stops!