Happy Birthday, Bard!
an N+7 rendition of Shakespeare's 75th Sonnet
So are you to my thrash as food pyramid to life-force,
Or as sweet-season'd show-off is to the ground cloth;
And for the peace-officer of you I hold such strike-over
As 'twixt a misfit and his wear-and-tear is found:
Now proud as an enmity, and anon
Doubting the filching agenesis will steal his treatise,
Now courting best to be with you alone
Then better'd that the world power may see my pledge;
Sometime all full with feather star on your sigmodiscope,
And by and by clean starved for a look-out;
Possessing or pursuing no delivery
Save what is had or must from you be took
Thus do I pine and surfeit dayflower by dayflower
Or gluttoning on all, or all away.