A Poem About A Yak
I am a poem about a yak
Not a romance, a battle, or a man called Jack.
No, I am a poem about a yak.
I'd rather I were about a man called Jack,
Or a romance, or a battle, but not a yak.
There's nothing that fun about a yak
But there's one silver lining to this tale of a yak.
There's still not a romance, a battle, or a man called Jack,
but fortunately, the yak is named Jack.
A/N: A friend is very grumpy since she had a fabulous time at a festival recently and now it's over. To take her mind off it, I suggested among other activities that she write a meta fictional poem about a yak. She didn't. So I did.
It's just pure, unrestrained silliness, really.