Boink Goes This Ratty Guinea Pig

Aye pride myself

being sui generis

verb hose subject for a zoologist,

cuz webbed phalanges

branch handsomely

from mine feet and wrist,

where perforce great expectations,

asper the next greatest (I SCREAM)

scoop of the month intimated,

conducted under top secret

controlled laboratory conditions

with yours truly (as the de facto

par excellence)

rodent named "Oliver twist"

Lady Dedlock key ping

watchful eye within bleak house,

while Thomas Gradgrind

feigns tubby bad company

during these hard times

temporarily all quietest

lull on the western front

since Donald Trump

detente foretold by a palmist,

whereby said President

of the United States

feeling as an optimist

met with Kim Jong-un,

(cautiously

side stepping morass,


viz hit blind side

dare devil hoodwinking,

via awe shucks faux bully)

suspending noninterventionist

impact unexpectedly witnessed leader

of North Korea as multilateralist

on historic June 12, 2018,

summit minus linguist,

where fist pumping in Singapore

for unilateral negotiations

offloading nationalism

weighing down

figurative chest i.e. kist

by resplendent sun,

where ma lounge

sotto voce, somber solemnly

sober ensemble re: joist

uniting this stately isolationist,

whose approximate

ten stone heft easy to hoist

merely sustains purposelessness

this poem without a gist

hence if Yukon spare one

(or more cruxes) lemme be fist

in line, though first, aye

would need to convince thee

this scribe doth exist!