I keep the 59fifty with me,
crown fit with the flipped brim.
Grin situated like a grizzly's.
I'll put a ***** down quickly.
Clip him in the kidney like a fifth
then watch his miss switch teams.
Appease her til her knees hurt.
Sign a jersey, ergo the curb.
My door reads do not disturb.
Delete me if you feel the urge.
Make no mistake, I will not search.
This is scorched-earth antics at its worst,
no stone will be left unturned.
Smarter than your average oaf,
my art works like an Ork on coke.
Just because you lack a clue doesn't
mean the world must follow suit.
There's a thumb in your mouth, and you
wonder why the words won't come out.