A Gleeful Duck in Apologetic Oil
With severe earnest fakery I make noise,
Advertising my honesty in all things false.
Evidence bores me, my rage is immaculate,
Here is where I ramble the most.
Such idiocy as gender, that a man may be,
Not a fern, nor some gender popular tree;
Words are empty, when dug out and drained,
We encourage offense more than any old brain.
I chipped my tooth in palms and complaint,
Wretched my opinion, not half a dirty saint.
A host of children in their infantile wiles,
Going nowhere for miles and miles upon miles.
I paused, I spoke to myself not kindly,
Not out of wrath, but just to remind me,
Once upon a forced youthful dull rhyme,
I also passionately supported thought crap.