oh, look! there is a cat-eyed tree,
it’s standing there, just mocking me;
my dated mental chastity
it finds a cause for scorn
and, oh! for youth that i misspent,
disoriented occident,
and rage that i have kept well-pent —
it says too long i’ve borne..
now, look, you stupid cat-eyed tree –
you’re not the fricking boss of me:
i’ll turn you into fricassee
or see your leaves all shorn
cause, dang! it’s quite improvident
for you to garner merriment
with me caught here in mid-lament;
the first star of the mourn