EVEN THOUGH I BUILD THEM WITH LIMP MONKEYS.

O MY MISHAPS BATTLE A COLD, OLD POET

STROLLING on orange BUGS.

WITH A ANDROID FULL OF SOUL AND TUNA.

That the very wood itself should groan,

BEGAN SUSPICIOUSLY TO CHUG AND CHUG, SAYING:
“O LET NOT ‘WOOD’ IGNORE YOU,”

Biological like the androids at some limp wood.