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To get a helipad, I hid a pile hate got.

To get a kepi, pass a pipe Kate got.

To get a man a van I trap at a signing, I sat apart in a van a mate got.

To get a man a van I’m in a van a mate got.

To get a man, I evaded a vein a mate got.

To get a man, I get a date gin a mate got.

To get a man, I pass a pin a mate got.

To get a mania, grab a bargain a mate got.

To get a mass aroma fox, I may beg remote Meg: rush, kiss me, opening nine poems Sikhs urge me to merge by a mix of a morass a mate got.

To get a mast, I beg an amenable Bali bomb mob I label “bane”, “manage bits a mate got”.

To get a mastiff (OK), cat (tall order), Omani rat (societal boost) or rapt parrot (so oblate), I co-star in a more droll attack of fits a mate got.

To get a mate, James deeds ’em a jet a mate got.

To get a rake-off, fit sane ponies I rise in open a stiff foe karate got.

The noon sex alert relaxes no one, H.T.

There we were, H.T.!

“Thru modem, Anna, I rat, ‘n’ e-mail rap at a parliamentarian named Omurht.”

Swap for a jar of paws?

Swap Neve’s seven paws.

“Swap paws,” I say, as I swap paws.

Sway, Sahara; Ara has yaws.

Swayed, Amy made yaws.

Swede bedews?

Sweden I flee, fit, ( Uber I hire) but I feel fine dews.

Swen—edit “Peptide News.”

Swen, Elba considers red is no cable news.

Swen, I man US tsunami news.

“Swen, I see sinews.”

Swen is snug as a gun’s sinews.

Swen naps did span news.

Swen onside, Ed, is no news.