Crap poetry that does nothing to change my belief that this blog is an elaborate form of [insert adjective, e.g. mental] masturbation

A half-bent albino
Glances through his nose
A red-crested angel
Turns inside and goes

A quick-eyed queen
Taps her feet to rhyme
A wise-cracking deliverer
Struggles to find - the - time

A slick-haired nitpicker
Stands to announce
"Here the rhyming ends
Henceforth not an ounce (any more)"

The spirited people
Now take their cue
And move slowly
Toward the door

(He said no more)

The grip losers, ace servers
The untelevised turkey slappers
Press forward
In a squabbling mass

Bedlam besieges everyone
And peace
What peace?
Lunacy enlivens everyone

But then a freshly shorn head
Swings though the air
And only then
Alights on a shoulder
Shirtless, black, bare(ish)

Is this forgiveness
I gasp
On the very day I don't have a camera?

Personified (echo echo)

(Not even in my phone - no echos)

Or is it just another detachment
When I don't have a friend to miracle-share with?

Docking (echo echo, and a bit of steam)

Bloody shame all that