Gone postin’ crazy—
whole lotta shakin’* goin’ on.
Yes, I said, gone postin’ crazy—
whole lotta bakin’ goin’ on.
Keyboard’s quakin’—
whole lotta bakin’ goin’ on.

I repeat: gone postin’ crazy—
digits flyin’ from my arms.
Gone postin’ crazy—
bakin’ lots of bull, some pure corn-a.
Mouse is quakin’—
whole lotta bakin’ goin’ on.

I go bake, shake and bake,
I said, bake, shake and bake.
Juvie japes. . .hope site takes ’em,
I said, japes, juvie japes,
’cause I’m goin’
for 4K take-offs of some songs.

Argh! I post.

My eyes red. . .gone postin’ crazy—
digits flyin’ from my arms,
sore arms,
schoolmarms
see harms.

Gone postin’ crazy—
bakin’ lots of bull, some near porn.
Desk is quakin’—
whole lotta shakin’ goin’ on.

Cheesy now.
Shake it, yeah, bake offs, take-,
yep, goin’ on a bakin’ spree.
Hope it’s soon over, sez me—
whole lotta bakin’ goin’ on.

Wow! Still far to go now.
Crazed shake and bake:
all you gotta do, dummy,
is grind. . .bang out inane thoughts,
push down those keys and ship out the bits.
That’s what I gotta do, yeah!

I’m ’fraid: whole lotta bakin’ goin’ on.


* As in shake and bake