At your peril my pen is ready, writer,

may we not fret ab out

od word odd needs a d ab
stract ob
tuse

we tangle our minds with our words but

control
the flow
pleasant or perilous it is all

in your mind
as it were

when pluperfects and the like ruled the roost,

nowadays, spellchicks are free, e-specials every day

po'man fine grammargrainstrain through

fishnets that never broke down and lied to prosper.

There was mental distress, but

nothing like LA traffica

with an alienated mind retaining alrights

privilege to access the global brain as being unem,
among 'em.

The whole world votes. Okeh.

Peace takes its chance,

at whose peril?
what price glory, warrior? who must you slay?