BONUS SONNET: Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Paul @Laroquod

I am no Marvel girl, but well I know

When I've committed heresy, of course!

And since I've done it twice in public, lo

Must I atone in public, too, or force

Dire retribution from my fav'rite fan

Of ages Gold and Silver, Laroquod.

Although I still maintain John Hamm's the man

To play Steve Rogers and the Captain (odd

That I thought of this not myself! For shame!)

He is not blond, it's true, but tell me this:

At day's end, at the heart, will you, Paul, blame

My loving more a dark-haired man? Don't dis

Me overmuch, I pray, for going mad.

I'm sure Chris Evans won't be all that bad.

Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mizz Carla McDonald

A Southern belle is always one at heart,
So I discovered yesterday once I
Had published, on a dare, a poem, in part
About a great impairment that is my
Achilles' heel at work: how such folk speak.
It's not that it's not charming, even cute,
As my friend Carla knows - it leaves men weak
I'm sure, to hear her sling it. No dispute.
But when a guy with one just cuts right loose
With deformed vowels and drops his consonants
In serious situations, there's no use
In pondering my preferences or wants:
I just plain have to tell them "come again?"
And vent a bit of spleen, just now and then.

In Which I Am Slightly Late To Jeremy C. Shipp's Birthday Party

I fear that I'm a few short hours late

In wishing happy birthday to a man

Whose stories I love so. I feel less Kate

For not knowing till now. But I'm a fan

And better late than never, I shall say!

O Jeremy, your stories break my heart

And bend my mind in such a crazy way

How can I aught but love you, for my part?

I hope the gnomes and Mrs. J gave you

The day you wanted most, and that the clowns

That fill your attic kept well away, too.

May this next year be full of more profound

And lovely work to haunt us from your brain

To all our eyes and ears, is my refrain.

BONUS SONNET: Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mister Christopher Platypus Fancier

I entertained a fantasy quite wild

Back in the wild and hoary days of youth

That, 'pon my birth, the doctors said "This child

Will never be too smart." (I tell the truth!)

And that my parents were too proud to say

"OK, you're right" and raise me as a fool,

Instead betook to tell me ev'ry day

I was the brightest ever at my school.

That, furthermore, because I was that dumb

I swallowed whole their story and behaved

As though I were a prodigy. Now some

Still think I'm smart, but lo how I have saved

You now from this illusion and this fuss,

You Purple Hairy Spotted Platypus!

BONUS SONNET: Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mac Tonnies

He made me laugh aloud over the air

This afternoon, pretending so to be

A chatterbot. Therefore I thought it fair

To do my best at least to try and see

If I could do the same, give tit for tat.

Mac Tonnies, guest appearing on a show,

To talk about the kinds of matters that

He knows about on real live radio,

I treated to a silly stream of lines

From his own stories in his juvenile

Accomplishment, Illumined Black. All signs

At this hour read "success": at least a smile

If not a laugh I drew. But that's for Mac

To say. If not I'll try more for payback.

BONUS BONUS SONNET: Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Meus Equus Parvus

Miss Ribken, O my wise and gentle friend,

Who was so kind this morning as to share,

This madness, Horsey Planet, to no end

But generosity! T'was most unfair

Of me to repay such as such I did.

My tweeting fingers sometimes, on their own

Share naughtiness from deep within my id,

Which id loves now and then to hear a groan

Of anguish at a pun or inside joke.

I hope Brent Weichsel's mash-up was a cure

For earworm torment. I know I provoke

A further dose of wrath, in fact I'm sure,

By naming here the song for readers: it's

"My Little Pony." May it cause no fits.