Karen vs Ollie

"Lo, son, ah, go up the vent"
My coy lord's jibe came.
"Or use the crane" (an alternative gibe).
But I heard nits and tics
And didn't trust the frame.
"Nay! My opal jowl must ripen
Before my wet sword greets the gore.
Thinker's acts performed on trays in the glen
Care little for the mane of men
While sax and oboes qietly say "Hi".
FIN

Ollie vs Freya

Today, meek Jo (envying winer)
Mile through fog and through shire
Devouring tex and taco,
Hit up Joe.
"Write 'QI, ZA, UT, ED, PO', ta"
Few Joes would say no.
Rib and abdomens agreed,
Like a zip in a rut.
In dud Lyon's pearl the carer rolls
By ka and through quire
Into sunset afar. Exo.