Indeed the length it must have been since you last came, weighed, waylaid since.
We cannot talk about that chance of which death looks so likelier.
Given that gut, fumed parenthood,
Thatcherous birth, a nose so wet
and Downed, it seems – per Paul
– there’s no chance of another month.
Understandably, you are concerned regarding dripping, and the lard;
this missive embarks steadily to the timely passing of your guard.
© Pat Mellow 2018