Epiphanies Aint Shit To Me

Superbowl is just a bunch of hyperbole,
I see you smile, cloaked,
Blow your nose like I provoke, yolks,
You've just barely hatched, you're clearly matched.
But no match for me! Not nearly! Flee!
Or I swear I'll catch.
I play catch with little chickens,
I rip em, stick my knife in em like mittens.
I'm fed up with these Feds, I'm hacking the feeds,
I'm little but living, I tackle my needs,
I'll begone and bigots no others begin to dread...
Apathy, the living be dead, heheheh...
Laugh with a croaked cackle! Float backwards, stack all,
I've hacked in packs with these black daggers!!
I'll make no amends. I make no amens. The last who laughs lacks all -
Sense! Ahem. But it's a twisted word, I'm with all and with all friends,
Here's a notion you won't comprehend:
What goes backwards... goes around the bend.