I am an imbecile,
Self scurrilous due to my
Possibly pusillanimous nature.
I regain my deadpan, nigh dudgeon, and
Based on principle, deny the plangency
You cannot inveigle my usufruct,
The mere idea of taction is
And I slip into imbroglio –
You seem ignorant of my deviations,
remain steadfast and sapient,
everything uniformly in its place.
Despite my incommodious lifestyle,
I find myself the ullage, unable to be the desideratum,
I leave you wanting.
Uneath and trustful, but I will never let you know.