There’s a kind of power
In the beauty of a flower
And there’s fun
In the glory of the sun
When you look up in the sky
It’s only human to ask why
But, if the lawn, green,
Is pretty as you’ve ever seen
Why not smile?
Why not be happy?

That’ll be $5.99 please.

I wanted to see the world
With fresh eyes so I had
A scientist clone me a new pair

A surgeon remove the old pair
And connected the new pair

It was a delicate operation
And it took weeks to recover

But when I could finally see clearly
Again, everything looked the same

It would be cool
To be a rhyming fool
To rhyme sappy
With happy
To rhyme hullabaloo
With Picachu
To rhyme resurrect
With circumspect
To rhyme yellow
With mellow
To rhyme dirigible  
With incorrigible
To rhyme hellacious
With salacious
To rhyme Jocasta
With pasta
To rhyme moon
With buffoon

And best of all
To make the call
To rhyme maybe
With baby

Then salute the purple cow
In the audience and take a bow

Behold the expendable character
Who’s death is designed to help establish
The putative high stakes of the show.

Cue Walter, a homicidal monster.
Little nuance here. Sneering, lecherous,
He’s due a satisfyingly violent demise.

And there’s absolutely no danger
In giving him one.

After the deep, deep thinking
I think about lunch!

That the journalist writing
the story about him doesn't know
is that there's no such thing
as meaningless action.

Which is why he's throwing a fit.

Are a house on stilts
in shifting sand
in the path of a tsunami