(for once this cannot be fueled by spasmodic impulse
in the cortex, its context's slightly appalling
every single simile has been used
even stating the futility is
so futile, so starvation
digests them)

hates the obvious
reasons with none
destines tomorrow
steeped in sorrow
in the spiteful pun
the tritest treason
a heyday we'll pay

we adhered to one
fly-papered world
and miscalculated
syllables we've hurled
the lateness unfurled
on this newborn day

this was exactly
what you thought
I would rightly say: