WARNING:  Some readers might find this sonnet offensive.  If you are easily offended, do not read it.

       Outpouring

He picks his nose and eats the bogie raw.
It seems impossible a scholar with
So much beauty as to fire up awe,
With so much handsome loveliness that myth
Might take him up, fling him up to epic heights
(Well, yes, mock epic, Alexander Pope)
Would do a thing so crude.  The action blights
His finest feature as he pulls a rope
Of snot out from it, yes, that perfect nose,
And takes the goo on academic tongue.
But then it’s wrong, unfair, one might suppose,
That picking noses is so much unsung.
O! give us more rhapsodic nasal glop!
And do not let snoutpourings of it stop!