Finnish poem prize

[pathos_bill]

Abstract: Finish this poem for me.
Grand Prize: An invaluable Gotham souvenir.

Pick up at the pi.

Monk's Morning Pages

Cries, 'twas restless!
(Be pour coffee he rote.)
Burt, then bike Ross.
Lie bell by the supple
    sack of rice. Across

The worden table,
That unfinished carpenter's π

Comments

[choochela]

Sonet.
Artificer's inlaid road
two ward grey carvings.
recoil andvile harpress
mindflow antrum
Harquebus O'penned.

[pathos_bill]

• Cited former Irish magistrate O'penned.
  
• Said "artificer", a word which the last sentence of A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man contains.
  
• Some monks are Irish.
  
• You have the cutest freckles, O'Plavsky.
  

Although New York has an infinitessimal Irish community, I will forward some gae relic to your quaint colonial village.

[lovepuppet]

woman.

[pathos_bill]

By calling me a woman, you shrewdly appeal to my masochistic tendency. I must be an impartial peotry judge, though. So titillated as I am, I cannot award you better than (n+1)st place.

Finishland

[nekton]

Grain needed.
Prostrate with apathy,
Never rub scrape.
Intense energy,
Nowhere to go,
Twitchy bend.

Re: Finishland

[pathos_bill]

Synopsis: Kneeling down to look for the rice sack, Monk accidentally pulls his crepe off the table. He deftly smooshes it into the floor with his right knee. The self-recriminatory stress induces a grand mal seizure.

Great story. (lg 4)th prize on its way. (What's your address now?)

judgemental haiku

[pathos_bill]

Fantabulous work.
You're Jya's roommate, correct?
Then I send you prize.