These hopscotching mere-eager moments of momentary insightfulness, a living artist’s ultimate reprieve – Lies resolutely between the borrowing twists-both-blue-bottle turns
Of his voracious penmanship = to earn it
A panhandler, a socially sacrosanct and predominantly pernickety pariah who dares to care to beneficially beg for some more of the exact same sane thing, perhaps – All of these wrigglesome sentences wrought-iron aligning themselves like pedantic mild-fire
Till jovially-both-joyously setting themselves hearts-apart amid mightily suggestive wild-fire, oh, my..
What, and why!? If we were to forever ferociously create a forlorn and fictitiously inevitable-both-enviable playlist
In all of our authoratative deeds, indeed..
Which gathers the borrowed thoughts meshed miraculously with-in
These posthumorous attempts at over-elongated-both-eagle-eyed hindsight and simply so soon as when
All of its high-falutin aforementioned autocracy starts to begin..
At silkily swimming – Lucratively-both-creatively, justifiably with-in one permitted story-telling swoop of his angrily sophomore, softly-softly spoken eyes – My oh, why, though!!?
Getting to set itself sacrosanct apart and it shall-both-can have to remain rested radiantly and agist and agelessly against
The bewildering welterweight touch-both-taste of his famously infamous gaining again..