Standing at akimbo Inclined upon the spirogyrART wall; that relaxed bragging The hands which wielded you, danced too soon Dust mantles upon you A cloak of glorious grandeur like the adornment of royalty; befitting,perhaps, Tales from the bard, bears in its vocal presence your swift prowess in the cling clang debate These rusty dentitions have witnessed moments of disembowelment, tasted life's flowing redness in careless sips, divorced agile femurs, and paused forever, lively breaths What more can be said? I sit and stare In awe and fear Oh *panga rest on inclined bragging. *matchete