Your husband tried to write a sonnet, eh?
I cringed and chuckled when I viewed the shit
He labored at producing. Mrs. Shea:
Your husband is a semiliterate,
Plentiful only in his lack of wit
And in his fund of adiposity.
His scansion sucks. His rhymes don’t help a bit.
The wisest critics all agree with me.
But these are faults that loving eyes can’t see—
So I appeal to your self-preservation
And to your simple practicality.
For your own sake now, shed all obfuscation!
Oh, please adopt a cautious attitude!
Don’t ever be mistaken, ma’am, for food….