Poetry is like a dancing midget
That comes from the world of fiction.
It hops, skips, and twirls
From your palm to your shoulder,
Where it blows your head away
Like the chorus of Kagerou Daze.
Poetry is like a Witch named Charlotte–
Tiny, weak, and light.
Smash it around and blow it up
Until you think that you’ve understood
And big, monstrous, and sharp-toothed
Will turn your head into food.