The picture below is a little poe-em that I wrote for one of my reports all about the night. You know – The Night – the part of the day that... er.. is not the day.

Notice the truly brilliant imagery brought to life through artistic use of construction paper, white-out, and pen. Yo, Robert Frost ain't got nuthin' on me.

Now here's an interesting concept, episodes of "Yo Momma" with famous poets throughout history. I can see it now. The crowd parts as e.e. cummings (actually spelled all lowercase... ooooh... how artsy) comes out with all that bling bling and shouts out:

"if there are any heavens yo' momma will (all by herself) have none of that ya' STANKY HO."

Then gangsta-bitch Emily Dickinson herself rolls-a-rolls out with her crew and her do and retorts with a sneer:

"Nature, Yo' Gentlest Momma,
Impatient of no child,
The feeblest or the waywardest,
Her admonition mild,
is so FAT...
YO... she so fat (what what),
that the International Astronomical Union (IAU) has labelled her a binary dwarf planet.
Betta' watch out, cause Amerigo Vespucci is STILL trying to chart the circumference o' THAT ASS. He got lost in the wobbling waves of that flab centuries ago."

So it can be said the Dickinson shot cummings in the ass. (think about it for awhile)