The Ever Changing Sight Of a Personality

I’m not writing a poem.

oh no-

id much rather be a golem,

and step on many many fishes in Salem,

pretend I am both queer and gay

and find a snippy little chap in the house of May

but what then shall I say,

when,

I’m beneath and earth of flatter and admire?

Well-

you shall see me sip lava with the gods of fire,

you shall find me waving blooded blades in a fit of murder,

and I shall turn your sky black

and I will make your mountains blue

but your wives will remain under the heel of Sue

our queen, while I say...

yeah. Whatever. Yay.