SHINE: IT'S YOUR ONLY HOPE

Powerlines are deceptive, especially
when in unsatisfactory states like
those boneless ribs weren't, and though
a commodious kitchen is agreeable,
it's sometimes pathetically so. Your
exterior—rough just isn't the word—
lacking polish more like, hid your gem
heart safe against the impossibilities
of an Iron Curtain revival, speaking of
which: I can totally get behind that
full body electric convulsion—it only
makes sense having not done The Twist
in what, 40 years? I'm gonna start living
a little and I don't care who doesn't
like it; the line to kiss my ass starts
right here—well there, actually. Hey,
when you hear that serenade, guess
what: they're playing my song, but I'll
let you listen in—I'm good like that.