herein I tell the tale of how "it's" and "its" entered into a suicide pact, and how I counselled them, and saved them from certain death

1
in fair paper and screens  
where our sins mostly lie
there were born two asterik-crossed lovers:
it's and its
and though they did not die
they did marry
and they begot a child
the second it's  -
though it has a life of its own

2
But in the hands of so many
were "it's" and "its" abused,
it was no longer funny
One said: *"The dog missed it's master"
(and people wondered if the dog is the master)
and another advised: "Seize the bull by it's horns"
and while many stood distracted by the meaning
the bull ****** its horns deep into their posteriors

And so were "it's" and "its" driven to woe
that they made a suicide pact
and I was commissioned to counsel them:
"Listen, it's the age of the
you're for your
there for their
(and vice-versa)
and people are no longer who but that;
an age in which people think an apple
is something you poke at"

And thus were it's and its consoled
and in my wisdom of the ages, I continued:
"Besides you've got your baby it's (it has) to think of"

3
And so it is I saved "it's" and the "its"
for our noble English Language,
turned comic what would have been tragic -
but what matters it anyway
when people still mess up the two
just as we mess up the earth
and misuse beliefs and religion

how many trolls
can dance on the
head of a pin?

ask a troll.

they seem to
know everything.

so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

in september i learnt
that the dead lives
among the living but not all
sees

when i was fifteen i once played
the ouija board
i said goodbye but
the spirit never left

my mother never understood my
incessant insomnia
she never saw the dreams
of strangers in my bed

she does not hear the voices
of people long gone
yearning to be heard
once more

it is said that in order
to live
you must first learn the
meaning of death

every night i made my bed out of
suicide notes and
broken bones and
overdosed cough mixtures

i once sat on the windowsill
a friend i once called a friend
helped me tight
while i cried

a love i cannot love told me
not to wake up and
regret
it would be too late by then

this is what i learnt in september
that some of us die in the
suffocation of the
overnight casket

and if i forget to come home
one night
i hope you read the signs clearly
this time