Listen! Listen, as nimble fingers tap
Staccato beats across the keys,
A caesura before pouncing, trouncing!
Clash! go the dissonant thoughts,
The clamoring words.
What a mumbling jumble as letters,
How freeing it’s been, divorcing
Sense for Seuss and reason for raisins —
The tiniest taste of mint-flavored paste.
Feral words run roughshod
Through hallowed halls,
Where tusks of long-dead mammoths droop
In shame. No one’s to…