My poetry's up
To a standard I'd peg
at middling supreme
lately, if I had
a leg
to just
jump back!- kick
myself with
but - I have two.
I can
never
choose.
Which!
So let's let it
be laid, to rut.
Unguarded,
ungraded,
uncut
on point
unmarked,
en garde!
Call it: fair.
That's true.
Plus fine.
OK.
We're square.
Such standards I have
align any olé!
to my cute lil'
matador suit.
Red caped,
let's say.
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