Though True, You’re Now Respected, . . . Corporal, Son, Don’t Go

Scintillating, not. Daunting, yea, but. But:

do you even worry so horridly, bolting so,

almost frolicsome to the hilt? Would you?

Of course I’m being condescendingly tocky,

creaturely cute, curvaceous with my logic,

but that’s all because I’m now tragic, ‘kay?

Let’s focus on my lyric attitude: one arm!

Now, turn. Exhale some vapor, but burn one

vesper candle to those open mandibles! Hello?

Know, corporal, it’s true you’re now respected.

Restless, neglected. But did you see how lately

one socky white lady frolicked over corpses?