Sonnet de la semaine, ouvré particulièrement pour EWR

[fr_defenestrato]

This is a belated sonnet for Bob, who complained a while back that the verses in one of my sonnets had too many syllables—some of which excess (I explained to him) was perfectly legal, caused by rhyming words with extra, non-accented syllables after the one that rhymed. Well, then, I thought this morning—and especially having recently been reminded of the very excellent word callipygian by jaegerbeast—why not go whole hog?

One day when every tune on my playlist was Phrygian,
In Donner Park I scanned free weeklies for some jollity:
A circus in the mist? No hope for such frivolity—
In fact, the culture scene was positively Stygian—
When o'er my shoulder peeked a strapping, callipygian
Young man in dapper duds, orating re the quality
Of "Classified" masseurs: one known for his assholity,
One for the sneaky ways he rubbed in his religion.
"I may not advertise," I fast assured this papegai,
"But I'll despatch your aches (and similar annoyances)
And charge you not a cent, despite that your flamboyance is
Sufficient to derail a train, much less to stop a guy."
Alack! of character I am no judge; clairvoyance is
My weakest attribute: I never thought he'd pop a guy!