Another Holiday, Another Quiddler Poem

A Stouter Quip.

An empty zen mind may / STREW about for a STOUTER QUIP / A real BITER of a mental COUP / Casting a DRUID JINX to cut / A SWATH through unyielding conversation; / Yet FOAL up nothing, as all thought is TOO GRAINY / To conjure a MERRY WIN that cuts / With AXE edge into the visiting HE and his GUESTY buttress. / JADED jibes would BUT LAG, / Arising a NINTH behind, no GLUES to stick them, / NARY a thought to float within the AERO expanse / Where once anecdotes and retorts could demand a FEE.

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