Space Craft

Living space is comfort-capable/Where I hang my hat.

But one fact is inescapable:/I’m a Slob. That’s that.

Floors have droppings non-excremental/Bathroom sink has floss that’s dental/Bags unlabeled drive me bent. I’ll/

Struggle struggle struggle

Plowing through the disarraneous/Though the itching’s subcutaneous/Garbage-bag the miscellaneous

Stuff that quells the snuggle

Crafting areas of calmness/Sweet oases volking balmness/Eye of neutral frond of palm. Guess

Marty Phil and Doug’ll

Sing a dirge for who I used to be/”B’ao Ditch” in B Flat

But I trust they’ll get re-used to me./Felix Unger–stat!