I write a sonnet: iambic Tupac.
A rocket rented: let’s skip the sweet talk.
In the space the clouds are not even there,
Nothing can echo: not even prayer.
Calculate life spans: TI-83.
Death could come for you: I just hope not me.
Got a collection of glass bottles here—
Stocking up all week; stocking up all year.
Graveyard shift Arby’s: Roast Beef Sandwich please?
Hide my soul in grease: hide my heart in cheese.
Equilibrium of a black-singed penny
Insignificant if I owned any.
Feral ain’t the truth; I don’t have no proof.
Structure breeds the breath of Creation’s death.