what I do

I sit slouching in the slimy seat

I crouch calmly and call my retreat

I stand softly startling the strangers

I can craft an apology creatively

I make my move momentarily 

I nod next to the nevermore

I masquerade in might

I nudge by the night

I hastily ran halfway through the hole

I have into gear and the gaudy

I hated the heels of the house

I glance from the gazebo gladly