A WhistleBlower’s Sonnet: Tweet Tweet

I quarreled with you, Verse, and you were born,

You, in a rAtio of my Vision, size,
font, Bold, Calligraphy Digitalis,
gradient, Italic, underlined, torn
yEt connected, a broken sonnet smashed.
There remain imprints undeleted: Beings,
A There - -There multiplying on the screen.
True were all the words my colleagues spoke. YES
I was an incompetent, derelict,
Disenfranchised, sexualized, and muzzled.
Those who are able went suddenly
Lame. Those unable rose up again.
One thing which is for certain or I’d not
Metricize it. I was what I was by my Want!
Sí Se Puede Sí Se Puede Sí Se Pudó.
El gran pedo Descartes se trancendió
Try describing it: Ungifted noggins:
They’ve come so far their Navel oranges.
So-So Day for Illiberal Decadence.