What now, what now, dull am I in highbrow articulations.
Come now, come now, defend the salacious with some
Inebriation? I too am getting tired of all this rhyming,
So can we detour to a broader picture, cameras on a
Kidnapping, notebooks on the noggin? However, I was
With reporters the other night and, guess what, the rhyme
Did fall on a lime juice & Gin Hold Up care of a flow
With no intention of putting up a friggin’ show in those
Brackish afterhours. But then I sensed subliminal
Subsumptions, and so proposed a creaturely cheer on an
Asshole’s hobnobbing with art’s eyes while side-glancing
Toward a pretty execution. Until I, too, bellicose while
Ephemeral, there ranted pedantically, argued with the
Stanzas till my poetry clapped, salacious and highbrow.
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