How very antithetical I am –
because of all the punishment I give,
I have become a sacrificial ham:
thou shalt not suffer which of us to live?
The simple words that float upon the page,
like clouds, as Aristophanes would scorn
their froggish greenness on this empty stage,
as rhyming crime is in this manner born.
Or could it be the messages within
that so offend the pleasant peasant folk?
For use of cerebella is a sin
beneath the social sanitary yoke.
A rebel with a plain poetic clause:
who, breaking rules, shall end this with “because”.