a study toward sonnet #425 by FisherKingKQJ
She complains about the thick glass ceiling,
That it can be so wire mesh, tempered tough,
But it seems to me a supercilious feeling
Invoked to make a poor white boy's lot rough.
Sure, she's had a gutsful of old boy guff
Which stymies crazy love of her mastered task;
She giggles boys void of the correct stuff
From behind a wide spread finger face mask.
If she wore a burka, not much to ask
Of her fantasies built on muslim oil,
In her own loud guffaws she could safely bask
So taking measure of a goatherd's toil.
How it is for burkas in the middle east:
They can laugh aloud at who owns the least.
(Chorus)
They can laugh aloud at who owns the least.
They can laugh aloud at who owns the smallest.
They can laugh aloud at who owns the tiniest.
[Proof of concept for 3d interactive movies.]