On this day, that is made cold and hard
With my cracking joints and dimming eyes
I will not have it.
You, with your wandering gaze, your anxious amble
My campy, cinnamon antagonists
Hightail it out of here!
Likewise to you, blunt encroacher, surgical striker
My rumbling, chocolate beast
Steer clear!
For I am bound to this place
And you are merely two faces on the same mislaid penny.
No, I will not have any of it! Not on this day.
