Robert Seeberger composed thusly: > Once upon a midnight dreary, > while I pondered weak and weary, > over another rooty tooty, > fresh and fruity repast, > not unlike a thousand that I had had before. > On my forehead came a knocking, > a rap, > a slap, > then handcuffs locking. > Quote the night manager, "Nevermore!" > > xponent > Poe M Aru > rob
A true art attack! Sir, I doff my imaginary bowler to you. Great poem! Kevin Street
