I’ll figure out the title later
first lets turn the spigots on,
hot for words
cold for reality
and tepid when intermix
is draining out at the beck
and irrefutable demand of
gravity, the great **** that
is the great equalizer of the
hunanity crew

even Elon must obey this
law of gravity, unless he
gives the world a break
and gets stuck up in space,
and no one takes his calls
of “pretty please save me?”

you know something?

This “poem” is pretty,
pretty poor,
that’s all,
maybe
just maybe I
won’t be
bothered to figure out
its family name, just
leave it orphaned like
so many others that
never even made it
out of the birth canal

so long, farewell, be
content you will be
forever known as #4