I hide behind soft words that grievous be,
make off unkempt to light the night with soul;
far-flung from here I dream unstoppably,
and ne'er return since seas I roam be gold.

Disparaged art for insight into life,
held polystryrene virtue to the fire,
'til melted and deformed the mass took flight,
and 'fumed the scene as if a toxic pyre.

Jesting at the mere hint that iambs soothe,
flame-lick our arms and tongues with what's outside;
no balm of couplets nor prose peace pursues
peripety awash in orange jibes.

While under hoodies, shaggy hair and pearls,
a futile ******* blunder fickle whirls.