The Spoonbill Generator

Consumed by Lust, whose second course [Roland]

Forms no sustaining staple of a balanced diet, [E Greejius]

I stand, unseasoned by remorse [Roland]

Since, Heaven only knows, I really ought to try it [TG]

But ... no immediate prospects? Cart before the horse? [E Greejius]

Lo, there she trots! My stable door [Roland]

(Though inept Freudian metaphors provoke condign derision) [E Greejius]

Was firmly bolted long before [Roland]

My futile nag, despite her lynx-eyed vision, [E Greejius]

Struck blindly out toward a less perturbing shore [Roland]

Of mindless self ... fulfilment; yes? [E Greejius]

While, I now unconstrained by matters bridal [Roland]

By bourgeois taboos, even less, [E Greejius]

(My girth, though, makes me prey to urgings tidal) [TG]

My God, my hair's a ****ing mess! [DeeJay Dave]

Just watch me now! No gigolo [Roland]

Even without my estimable sense of timing [E Greejius]

Could outstrip me, the bartered beau [Roland]

In iridescent turquoise leather trousers, [E Greejius]

And putrid thermal timing [The Agent Apsley]