Dear Mr/Mrs Birch.
Please STOP this pollen nonsense immediately.
Please STOP this pollen nonsense immediately.
“I'm birch-kin and my pronouns are xe, xir, xir, xirs, xirself”
My dearest Ulmus
While languishing inebriated 'neath your ample verdant canopy I was inspired to verse:
I think that I shall never hear a poem as lovely as a beer. A beer McSorley's had on tap with golden base and snowy cap.
The golden stuff I drink all day until my memory melts away. Poems are made by fools I fear but only [insert] can make a beer.
But you adjudge me MAD.
Best wishes,
Alfred E. Newman