FicWad

So some sucker stole over and had the audacity
to say I've got a lisp.
That snake! Scum-sucking servant!
My lisp is soulfully sound, the best
stuh-stuh-stutter of the century.
I'm stupidly suspended in addiction to the diction,
superbly suburbia-fly, surprisingly superior
to any Scott, Sam, or Sullivan who could
eclipse me in insulting rhythms.
But they can't stop this sick flow,
so they go,
but they're no shows,
I am the hero.

And if you need a sensei for the slow sensuality of the psyche
of superpowers, just send me a message to the address
of the Centre for Solitude.
So listen here, Shakespeare,
next scenario you decide to describe the silent scream
of my lisp, just spit that spam spasm somewhere else,
shutting up that soft hiss of haters
who can't take the heat.
Because us here sticked-and-stoned you,
did not miss you,
and somewhere else some lost loser
may seem to hear your squalling.

__________________________________

Spoken word is poetry, right?