Since his answer was oddly haiku-like (see below, with liberties taken),
The wall cups your voice
in its palm and flings it back,
as an echo, to you
I've decided his prize shall be haiku! I provide three herewith, of varying degrees of artistic malodorousness, and I
I see that smile.
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Want thoughts to ponder?
Just Vogt early, Vogt often;
always more to read!
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If you fancy some
jellied marrow, bile pudding,
ask Josh's big friend
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A Cheshire wordsmith,
he appears just once a day
but leaves us his smile
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