Original Palindromes Lacitebahpla

So, nets bar drab stenos?

So need a metal potato plate made, Enos?

So near, one man I name, Nora: Enos.

Son, Asia pondered, now I wondered, no paisanos.

“Sonar, post Sopranos!”

Sonar possesses sopranos.

Sonar poseurs rue sopranos.

Sonar poses use sopranos.

Son, antihero nor iron ore hit nanos.

Son, a more Tibetan game: Estella, mewler rabid, I barrel, we mallet, see magnate bite Romanos.

So must a few drawers reward we fat sumos?

So, must a damsel bury my rubles, mad at sumos?

So mussel-gnawed art trades run, my gym-nursed art trade wangles sumos.

So miled, I ride limos.

Sometimes moms emit emos.

So, metaverses rev at emos.

Some patisserie heiress: “I tap emos!”

Some Mom edits Asti demo memos.

Some modem telepaths in a Danish tape let me do memos.

Some model let Elle do memos.

Some meta-geneticists I cite negate memos.

So, memes use memos.

So, memes revert reverse memos.

So, memes net tense memos.

Some mere motel bibliotist never prevents it: oil bible to mere memos.

Some mere hero tore, here, memos.

Some men—it’s Ed ‘n’ Al—cremate tamer clandestine memos.

Some men (in time to jot) emit nine memos.

Some men interpret nine memos.

Some men in Nepal let Stella pen nine memos.