Turgid flames and swollen fire,
I evoke my wrath and all my ire
And crack the whip of impending doom
For the travesty master is back, full of wisdom-toothless gloom.
His gums are sown shut with medical wire.
He eats liquid food, but his mood does not mire.
He knows within days he’ll be healed up just fine,
But ’til then, human flesh he must wait on to dine.
So thus I am back, and just as lousy as ever.
I’ll continue to write, since that is my endeavor.
So welcome me back with comment or two.
If you don’t, rest assured, I know where live you.
The Daily Travesty 