CAPSLOCK McGINTY

Yo, but, I am but an architrave, 3-fingered, crawling scrabbling for scraps Lo! I am but a fender-bender With little paper numbers on, Oh! Time unwound and scrabbling for scraps I am just a 4-car-pile-up on the only-road out of town

She was a difficult child Myra We told her we loved her all the time And when she asked to be free We left the door open And she crawled in the corner and cried