I think I will write a poem

Because I believe that I can

Soliloquist of course, 

I know what I am

Perhaps, some would inquire

And respond euphemistically

I would certainly give it my all

Maybe too optimistically

But then, peradventure, I should

Sanguinarily express 

My disdain for the truth

And baby, that red dress!

Oh, what does it suffice?

Whether truth be truth indeed

Or lies, envelope please,

To reciprocate the need

And who will even notice

A little hue at the end of a peck

Or posture inclined

Isn’t it all circumspect?

Reassurance is all that I lack

For poetic animosity

Architecture certain to befuddle 

With my dignified atrocity

So, when I pursue civilization

With my eloquence of written word

Or my pride and manifest abilities,

None, would think it absurd

Oh, heavens to purgatory 

What has been done to society?

As I am on the late night news

And they are checking me for sobriety

Officer! It was only an existential poem 

As I, reverently, tried to explain

But, that dumb cop, the one I punched

Told me it was rather plain

"Arrest him, not me!"