I wish I could write a poem about
how clever and interesting and utterly
human you are; alas, I cannot.
all I can think about is your
******* hair, an entropic tangle of
dying cells and pigment catching solar
rays and background radiation in
every ******* selfy you take and
I am sorry that is what I fixate upon
but how could I not?

my apologies, for usually I am
a far better man than this, yet
even then you are
a far better man than I and
I commend you for it.

stay tubular, young lad.

stay ******* tubular.