Not all things
-- still! weigh as potatoes do.
Nor such writing done so as to help you.
Most things dance: coincidental movements,
Some yet muttering, no, nothing by chance
Still blaming Cupid for that other thing
Or his gifts, her strategies, the rainbow
Or whatever they think they t’other did,
Or chromosomic files than in the stars.
It is possible it is the black cat.
It’s owner owns the tyre company.
Although the cat lands after the car stops.
Is an I, is the one who did it Ad.
Made me think of politicians’ brag-talk,
Their mums not slapping them behind their heads
Every time they lied: or, because they did.
Therefore, those new laws about not hitting
Coined by those who did / didn’t get beaten;
Every gripe is something that does complain.
Papa looked at the night sky so long that
He felt he was balancing on a ball.
There’s no way to sophisticate, that.