Dear Lance Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Lance?
What enhanced designer drug,
Are you now on?
When viewers are riveted,
To a hopeful revealing interview...
Only one thing confessed,
Made little sense...
By those watching you.

'I called you crazy.
A 'B' that can be switched into a witch.
But never did I say...
On your hips,
You carried any fat! '

Lance?
What enhanced designer drug,
Are you now on?
'But never did I say...
On your hips,
You carried any fat.'

Dear Lance,
After all that you've done...
What was the importance of that?