doubtless doubles unreal error down nested mirror all ways:
A man does dread
losing his head over
something he cannot control
and a woman’s friends
’ll go to any ends to
prevent her kissing a troll,
yet although she winces,
hoping frogs can be princes, she’ll
pucker up once, just to see,
and ‘though noncommittal
he’ll tarry, a little, to
kiss someone pretty as she;
so they fall into the charms
there, in each other's arms, and
bang-zoom, whoops: Here’s me!
You prob'ly'd thought the man’s dread
over losing his head over
something he couldn’t control
was a notion confined,
in his mind, to the binding of
freedom in romantic roles,
and, like a good reader,
you’d thought the “Here’s me!” there, above,
bespoke a gestating babe
and the familiar plot,
how to act or act not
in comport with the family way,
but your narrator knows it’s
but me: his own psychosis,
and she, ever, his idée fixée.