a study toward sonnet #1,423 by FisherKingKQJ
(octet)
A convention there is when it comes to verse,
We find a pretty girl to foist through praise,
Whom rare words can immortalise, so raise
To goddess stature, not for her a hearse.
Now, typeset cues back to front its blot curse,
And mumbles twist and truncate, nuance rephrase,
And paper burns up accidental blaze,
And museum funding cutbacks make things terse.