Casper Sullivan
tuft-tuft toothy tumble,
the animal’s gullet ever-rumble.
switch in hand and fire on wick,
against its flank a beatin’ stick.
daw-daw claw and maw,
a’other jab to its willow-whipped flank,
and as indemnity, a’other ship sank,
ne’er there be a beast with so many’a tamer—
life’s lion,
the generation-blamer.
Stylus 