For years I’ve heard there isn’t any rhyme
for “orange,” but it hasn’t made me groan.
The word I want to use, time after time,
is “month,” and I’m afraid it stands alone
without the right to end a metered line
in any form of English-language poem.
If only we used “mois” or “mes” or “mese,”
composing this would make me feel less crazy.

(Ottava Rima)

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