Trotting out in postures (oh love!)
We were reptiles before the storm.
In stop-gaps our clucks mood-fluxed.
(Oh hate!) We’re still antipodes
To unserviceable hogwash.
With tight outness of front,
Stupefying apple pie order,
You ringleadered hissing counterplots,
The breath of revenge.
Cramps in the throat.