I Said, The Poets Are There I

When I'm Writing, I Know I'm Doing The Thing I Was Born To Do.

I Am A Collection Of Dismantled Almosts.

Well, One Gets Out Of Bed And The Planets Don't Always Hiss Or Muck Up The Day, Each Day.

Come, My Pretender, My Fritter, My Bubbler, My Chicken Biddy! Oh Succulent One, It Is But One Turn In The Road And I Would Be A Cannibal!

All Considerations For These Human Remains! They Must Have An Escort! They Are Classified!