I Don't Know What It

Some Tiny Creature, Mad With Wrath, Is Coming Nearer On The Path.

There Was A Young Lady Named Mae Who Smoked Without Stopping All Day; As Pack Followed Pack, Her Lungs First Turned Black, And Eventually Rotted Away.

Explaining Something Makes It Go Away, So To Speak; What's Important Is Left After You Have Explained Everything Else.

The World May Think It Idiotic, Nor Care At All We're Symbiotic, But I Will Say At Once And Twice: I Find It Nice. I Find It Nice.

I Really Think I Write About Everyday Life. I Don't Think I'm Quite As Odd As Others Say I Am. Life Is Intrinsically, Well, Boring And Dangerous At The Same Time. At Any Given Moment The Floor May Open Up. Of Course, It Almost Never Does; That's What Makes It So Boring.