I brandish random artistry to dampen canyons hardly reached
in the span of standard/garden weeks. Expanding manic margining
to fan my plan of harboring a candid canvas. Are we free
to march to beats our standard canon's sparsely seen?
Are we deemed/elected to farther schemes erected?
Or are perceived impressions set in carbon freeze forever?
My carpentry is letters. Lectures weld into text,
to hammer home sense and hit the nail on the head.
You've failed to accept an oddity that's primed.
A commodity to comedy. Not a novelty; I rhyme
'til monotony subsides with ideology that ties
the common piece to models. He just copies things we like,
and we're all, 'Golly gee, that's tight!'... praising ourselves.
It's follow the leader following either chasing their tails.
A school full'a students who moonlit as teachers
and threw up their hands while noon took a breather.
@
oats