On Poetry

I've been working on this a little, ever since Ryan Vaughan made the off-hand comment that one could not and probably should not write porn as if Shakespeare wrote porn.

*Please note: the following is in ABBA iambic pentameter.


But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the pizza boy! Alack! I am
without cash or credit to pay the man,
And lo', they do not accept traveler's cheques.

Good sir, I cannot for this pizza pay,
Yet still I crave some Italian sausage.
So to cut the long and extra verbiage,
Might we settle my debt some other way?
- Cue porno muzak

'm not really sure where to go from there, as the only foreseeable dialogue would include the stunned arrivals of the pool boy and cable guy. I could perhaps narrate what is happening as the actors are sexing each other, but that's a lot of work and I don't have time right now. Needless to say, the phrase "That doesn't go in there!" would have to be worked in. Leave comments on what you'd expect/like to read in the continuation.

*Edit: At some point since I posted this, I included the following verse:

The Pizza Man asked me, "How old are you?"
And with baited breath and on bended knee,
Replied I, "Good Sir, I am just eighteen,"
And then gobbled his taught and turgid tool.