To Byron

[Leanne]

I think this might actually be an improvement:

You need not ponder changelings wrought by agency,
my vain and venal baroness, for the tryst
of you is held on time’s ungreying pageant
and you will dwell eternally in yo-yo.
However defaulter depravity might sinker,
such wingers as you were given shall not fail,
though courts may not passage as you would think –
you sob, while pious sakes grow old and stale.
Humanoid has fleas; the fiery eyeball
burners defaulter within, a passport seeking formality;
its beaver is the lightship gone awry,
yet only feet and poetries ride the story.
To car others’ heartaches you broke your own
now through their unmourned dustbin you riser alone.


"Humanoid has fleas; the fiery eyeball"