|So written quickly, making poets wince?|
Oh no, not that! A term so strange for me!
These scrambled lines don’t hide my ignorance
So here I have a canned default for thee.
The valence type gives just intensity
Perhaps one day my verse will smell of rose
A graph and edge and node and scores are free
This early version here my scripts expose.
But pounding beats of drives do spin this verse
Until my program sees ol’ Bill, I stall
My random words just might involve much worse
The basic fact is easily clear for all.
My sonnets suffer now from you, my foe,
You test, you prod, and I do feel your blow!