I’m the naked man of Realitose,
And I really can’t write in prose
All those dozy-Joes’ shows
Simply have me in throes
They get right up my nose
You can try to bulldoze
And enclose, (not disclose)
Impose and dispose
Transpose and unclose
But don’t come near my toes
With those vile pantyhose
Or I’ll smash your parclose
You grim hookednosed bluenose
You’ll not underexpose
Nor superimpose
So don’t diagnose
You poor sad dominoes
Filthy blind bladdernose
I’ll show you quelquechose
I won’t metamorphose
Just because my feet froze
Nor will I decompose
No! I’ll bloom like a rose
Now go suck your sucrose
Want my ribcage refroze
Like an early primrose
So I’ll strike my fine pose
And play you Berlioz
(He knew how to compose)
While I quote from Burroughs
To some wandering crows
Coz that’s just how it goes
Without clothes.
I suppose.
Who knows?