English concentrator Lucas Dipplesby, who solely speaks in an iambic pentameter sentence structure, is quite adept at keeping a consistent tempo during sex.

“O sweet and silent pulse that stirs within, / Thou mov’st me with a grace so soft and sure. / With Shakespeare’s sound, I studiously sin, / In metered words, our hearts do beat more pure,” proclaimed Dipplesby passionately, expertly thrusting with inhuman precision into his situationship of several months. “It is not love, nor lust, that leads our zest, / But something higher, seed of Spenser’s tree: / We twain are bound in rhythm stressed-unstressed, / Ten syllables dictate our synchrony.”

“Cruel lot in life, which force me speak in beat, / For sex! My Lady mandates me appointed! / World’s purest flower, morning glory sweet, / Thy lips are petal-soft, Burt’s Bees anointed,” continued Dipplesby, utilizing a classic ABAB rhyme scheme, which is the sexiest. “My face doth yearn for yours in harmony, / But wouldst I cease my metronomic yapping / As oarsmen with no coxswain, lost at sea / Wouldst slip from me: my periodic slapping! / I tire, yet I stave my curtain call, / My heart, and other organs, yet enlarged! / Now, giveth me thy rose of pleasure all, / Which lays still unforgotten, fully charged.”

At press time, the guy who speaks exclusively in haikus was unfortunately still unable to last longer than 17 syllables.

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