Sonnet VII
When each of you with all his heart agrees
being twinned is better far than single-o
it's finding out that's likely to displease
we always hope to keep ourselves so-so
And thus it was a sib steeped in sottise
who beggared gave his rags the old heave-ho
e'en low bro's lead to diaporeses
when parents sanctify the babygro
The genealogist finds every blot
to cease from scratching parchment he cannot
he'd really like to root out the cuckquean
Oh brother even when you groan I grok
I quite forgive you when you run amok
true twinship blames whatever's in the gene