The Cabinet Of Dr. Calimari-Lago: AG (Almost) Matt Gaetz

With sundry twisted Epstein 

mates 

o'er ice-thin ethics rules Matt

skates.

Takes pre-pubescent girls on 

"dates"...?

What's next upon Matt's sexist

plates...?

Tweens...? Adolescents...? neo-

nates...? *

"The center cannot hold," holds 

Yeats,

which nearly proved our common

fates:

AG of these United 

States...?

No wa-a-ay "Things fall apart" Matt 

Gaetz,

that wanker MAGA cele-

brates

who hates the same stuff MAGA

hates.

   *No mention's made of 'mastur-

bates.'

Apologia Pro Nuga Sua

I'm neither Shelley nor the Bard. 

Compare me not to Frost or Homer.  

Liken these* to Emily's...? 

Who claims so frames a gross misnomer.

   I'm not Blake or Plath or Sappho,

Emerson or Donne or Keats.

A neo-Blake...? Don't make me laugh! (Oh...

note: nor ape I Maya's feats.)

   My lingua...? Never elevated,

nor by critics highly rated.

Once it's all been said 'n' done,

these doggerels are just for fun.

   (Once it's all been done 'n' said,

they're funny heard, tho' better read.)

   *Fyi: this footnote will shortly list 

the titles of all eleven of Uly's books 

of nonsense verse.

Oh, Hell: I Must Be Going: An Alphabet Of Departure

       In light of recent political events, some Americans have been overheard discussing emigration -- their own -- several reaching decisions and moving those determinations to the top of their respective 'must do' lists. Uly Poe is among them.

                                    "For the snark IS a boojum you see."

                                                                 -- after Lewis Carroll

Anticipate the starting gun...? 

As B*****'s back, it must be done.

I'll Break (or tie) the record for 

the fastest mile (3:44*).

I'll Cut 'n' run. (Please don't give Chase; 

just trust: I must depart this place.) 

I'll Dash a hundred yards -- nay: more. 

Don't track me Down: I'm out the Door.

I'll Exit East (northeast, at least). 

I'll deadhead -- tho' not (yet) deceased. 

You'll Eat my dust. (Apologies: 

here's hoping you'll avoid a sneeze.)

I'll Fly the coop. I'll Flee the scene. 

Nor will I tell Folk where I've been. 

I'll Get me Gone. I'll Go alone. 

I'll disengage from web 'n' phone.

(And, passing 'Go,' I'll Grab that dough:

two hundred smackeroos -- Hi, Ho!) 

I'll Hit the bricks. I'll Hie me Hence. 

(None's done the like -- before or since.)

I'll Imitate ol' Aesop's hare

and Jog (tho' slow) aboard shank's mare.

I'll Kiss all Kith 'n' Kin "So Long!

I'm Leaving." (Please don't get me wrong:

I'll Light out for the territories,

Huckleberry-Like,

nor never Lag. I'll Leg it... 

...that or Learn to ride a bike.

I'm Making haste while shines the sun.

Arrives the rain...? Too late to run.)

I'm Making tracks. I'm Moving on.

Mayhap you'll Miss Me when I'm gone.

I'll Not delay; I'll Navigate

each Ocean, creek 'n' crooked strait.

"I'm Outta here!" you'll hear me shout.

I'm Off 'n' running, have no doubt.

(To put no finer point: I'm Out.)

I'll beat a Path, a Powder take.

I'm Put to flight, for heaven's sake.

I'll Quit, so Quick, these premises.

I'll Run away; the day I'll Seize.

I'll Trek where no one's Trek'd before.

I'll Tread upon a loaf.** What's more,

I'll Up 'n' leave like Barbra S,*

Unable to abide such mess.

Nor shall I Vamp 'til ready. No,

I'm ready now; I'm set to go.

I'll Wend my Way, perhaps head West.

Some spot mark'd X may prove the best.

I'll hug You; then my cap I'll doff:

...three...two...one...Zero: Blasting off!

     *The record for the fastest mile is precisely 3:43.13, set on July 7, 1999 by Hicham El Guarrouj from Morocco.

     **Han Andersen's Inge appears in one of his more bizarre tales.

     ***One of many celebrities pledging to move abroad if Drumpf regains power. Other mss show "E. deG, Unable to remain, you see" here. Future recitations doubtless will insert other names as the list of emigrees continues to swell.