Psst. Tell ya a secret. When no one’s looking,
I march right up and give the evil eye
to pictures and hangings for being crooked.
Bugs me when a rug does the buck-and-slide.
Bugs ain’ the half. Crooked organ grinder’s
monkey I don’t recall buying jitters out
of its office and mouthes, "For the right bananas,
I will tickle the zig outta its zag.  Capiche?
Stay straight?  Y’kiddin’?  Yer average runner
looks like mating sidewinders got smashed
by an anvil meant for RoadRunner.   Acme
and Co. should use UPS.  Where am I?  Oh.
Guess who has to set gewgaws straight?
Suckers are stubborner than rugs.  Ask me,
ceramic classes should be against the law.
Unnamed individuals just cannot resist
turning clay on wheels delight in splattering
floor, ceiling, and us.   Mud on our elbows
more aesthetic. (Them.  Their.  Meant them.
Meant their.)   Pots, ‘zines, clocks, blinds,
and that lampshade on Cuz Tipplewine refuse
to stand like God intended.   Cheesh!

What’s that? Don’t think about parallel.  
Last right angle got sucked into a vacuum
known as math.   Rule of thumb:  best level
invented  has  to  rely  on  crooked  specs
Rube Goldberg’d by a whacked-out universe.
Catty-wampus: 1 -- Upright: goose-egg.
World’s shiftier’n a 1-800-classaction
asp.   Nature gets off on choreographing
steps a Fred Astaire clone couldn’t do.
Durvish with Chaos on Stage 24-seven.
Tickets available at your nearest tornado
funnel.  Guys, look.  All I ask is a little control.
Foundations not to crack and crumble.
Flood, fire, and famine t’go-a-freakin’-WAY.
Minor flash from the home front:
Should a body, say, float a loan for a Best Buy
stove, puh-leez don’t sent Askew and Awry
to install the deal.   Dudes think left means leave.
Right-schmight.   Forward = Back.  Ayeeiiiiiiiiii.
Add   pants  that  reveal  defective  parts,
got me praying for four so-so-straight walls
and good padding.   Take a pill??   My luck,
tilt the other way.   Hey, just because I think
The Answer is keeping a basket my son ‘wove’
at Camp Pow-Wow off the floor don’ mean
I got a syndrome.   Things just ain’ goin’
my way.      Rest is up in the air.