Yes?
I don’t see. I’ll buy it for a forfeit.
Then a red-haired beaky-nosed burly nun
Called Sister Agatha, so I tell myself,
Comes nearer, throws her veil aside, takes up
The envelope of the letter. Now she lays
A manicured finger on the office post-mark,
Leering down in my face.
I see it now,
You ugly she-bear. Wisest Course of Love