well i don't know,
it could be either -oom or
                         ūm
or the umlaut arithmetic
or a pinch of the acute -
   call it, what you like,
lexicon, infinity -
nonetheless,
            i will die not having
said the plethora
    of the peacock that is,
language...
   a sober actor,
   is a dead actor,
   which brings me to my conclusion,
i know why that handyman
left his suitcase in my bed'rue'mm,
            as one handyman
to another handyman said:
i have my drills, you have your books,
we can not expect to congratulate
each other on being both
handymen, and, kleptomaniacs;
mind you, i prefer drinking
with window cleaners,
      scaffolding folk,
roofers than these ghastly:
closet intellectuals...
             seems like we're only to
find these closet people,
  since homosexuality became
so mainstream,
and if a "thing" becomes mainstream
there's no taboo...
no taboo? no fun (in tickling
a fancy of).
ergo? back to the *******... sorry...
drawing board.