It’s Mrs P. O’Taster, yes? And how can I assist you?
I see you’re walking slightly lame, and standing with a list, too.

OOH Doctor it's me dactyls, they're paining something chronic,
Me feet are fairly crippled and me walk’s gone all glyconic.

Let’s take a look. Please lie on here, and show me your caesura;
Your case could be a challenge to my talent as a curer.

I can hardly get me verse on, the effect is catastrophic
and every day’s identical, I’m turning homostrophic.
I’m suffering from expletives when I try to be iambic.

Your record shows you’ve always been a little dithyrambic.

Ah, doctor, if I exercise I can’t escape the end-stops.

I’ll show you some enjambment; that’s a strengthener that hops
across the joint. It eases early symptoms of versitis.
What worries me is that I see some signs of trocheeitis –
please cough – again – yes, there's a hint of hudibrastic phlegm;
I’ll write you a prescription for that tedious apothegm.

I s’pose you’re going to tell me it’s a very common metre?

 
I'm seeing lots of quatorzains where sonnets would be neater.
But this is not to mention your encroaching paralepsis,
Unexpected, aleatory and emetic antisepsis;
I’m sorry, but I think you need the discipline of haiku.

But that sounds very nasty, Doctor (didja sneeze then? Bless you!)

Tanka. If you handle it in comfortable doses
(and that’s an understatement like litotes and meiosis)
some practice with syllabics needn’t turn into a vice.
What I’d really like to help is your compulsion to be nice.

Ah Doctor, don’t be cruel, don’t destroy me happy haze
repeating trivialities as cute refrains and lays.
Me quatrains and me ballads are the verse that I enjoy.

Well here’s your fresh prescription as a critical envoi.
And as a word of kind advice, not meant to be sarcastic
could I persuade you from today to be less periphrastic?
If you wrestle rhyme and metre, you might wrench rhyth-Um and accent.

I’ll hope to hear next week that you’ve been diagnosed with content.