Once again dear reader,
     aye strive to regale ye
with in apropos prate,
     (nee inane) vain
null gibberish in order to suss stain
mine infamous reputation
     with the singular word pain
in thee...online

     literary milieu, where this main
stream (babbling virtual
     brook call lean)
tin hatted man,      
     qua zee moat tow "FAKE" King
     po' whit laureate selective keen
a boot (sally ling forth)
     hemming and hawing,

     while feigning bing
     a suave hill Billy blue jean
wearing brand Levi Strauss,
     (a posthumous plug)
     for a savvy German
     businessman hood deed glean
prospective market for
     denim made easy to clean

material donned by lumpen
     proletariat aye assert
     would be my status
     if born circa
     late eighteen hundreds by
a moo their and father,
     both named (Elisha) Eli
for short slaving away to feed,

     and clothe this then little guy,
who **** fain to appreciate my
(dirt poor station in life well nigh
larded with love,
     and non verbal re: ply
thee above fictitious
     i.e. "FAKE" parents rye
zing far and above

     penury and did try
their level best
     to hammer out
round the clock rockin
     round the clock
nsync with the paradigm
     of Abraham Maslow,
     albeit modified ad hoc

accepting with humility,
     poverty how to ****
key providing basic brood
     of offspring and subtly mock
king bourgeoisie, re: (unpretentiously
     unflattering discrete actions), while rock
king to thee western civilization
     trappings of schlock,

ah and oh...no doubt
precious time, aye
     did fritter and flout
     away distracting sorely tendered,
     kindled, and cherished attention
thus metaphorically affecting thee
     with equivalent, where
     yar entire body riddled with gout.