Pettifog

Just a little low cloud
Been dogging my days
Since the early years
Ever since the Analoraloedipal Stage
Made a man outta me.

Call it what you wilt:
Mr. Worrygiver
Agenbite of Inwit
Late for Dinner,
An Angst by any other name
Will still feel like
A one lipped man in an asskissing contest.

I call it Pettifog
When I don’t call it Kilroy
That o’erhanging nose
Is an intrusive thought
That clogs my conduits
& slogs my sluices
Shortcircuits the very ability
Of Earl to be Earl.

Why not Pettimort instead?
Now that’s a little sump’n sump’n
A guy can get behind
Which is funny since for all my fears
I do not fear Death
Other than the embarrassment
That surprising but inevitable
Ineluctable O Face you make
When the punchline is revealed.