Of all the annoyances and utter quakes,

Dismal weevels and I believe chaste,

is the action that a-firms a going –

for feeble evil beevils,

and yet they choose to shout.

You spring up volume, for loudness en-tow

Entombed by racket, and you seem so dismal so-

I choose to turn the music up louder,

My racket is my own

Choice.

So I choose no haste-

and to waste time.

Like a turtle in the pool.