Know this now: I long ago gave up my belief in Rapture.

I rise on pins and spit the pips, Hugo.

Prenuptials must not include

Recourse to jelly donuts.

Not this time.  I am no one's Ivanhoe.

I too despise, abhor, deny, and denigrate prose poetry.
This here is an ode to language itself, which writes us.

It doesn't write me a cheque, though.

Drive me like a Porsche.

Somebody better call the cops, kiddo.

I am in.  In luck, intemperate.

Poetry should not exculpate: it sings, buddy.  Got that?
All men will be millers then, so that they will eat pain.

Egghead marries hourglass.

Four-eyes weds egg-timer.

Old-timer shacks up with Dish.

Creep gets world famous chick.

Tut Tut McGinty Said.  He said this with much relish.