Pustule Man Was The Last Phase Of Evolution Poem by Raj Dronamraju

You produce such splendid gibberish
Only about about 25% of what you do is actually felt
You help yourself to his whiskey
You produce a cigar from out of nowhere
You say "Let's get some girls. I'll call the agency. Brunettes! "

You follow twin directives on pleasure - What you think satisfies you, brings you happiness and what you want others to see you have

That jacket turns a different color depending on how the light hits it
You keep promising us a spin in your new car
You rattle the key in front of us as we eat our lunches

If we squeezed you too hard, out would pour corruption
Pus in the form of words and affectations that show the mismarriage of money and success

Temporarily and not at all
And I don't think I want to be anyone
Corpulence differentiates from the 21st century version
They thought they had class then but neither them nor their emulators will ever turn into people anyone would want to spend time with