Boink Goes This Ratty Guinea Pig

Aye pride myself
being sui generis
verb hose subject for a zoologist,
cuz webbed phalanges

branch handsomely
from mine feet and wrist,
where perforce great expectations,
asper the next greatest (I SCREAM)

scoop of the month intimated,
conducted under top secret
controlled laboratory conditions
with yours truly (as the de facto

par excellence)
rodent named "Oliver twist"
Lady Dedlock key ping
watchful eye within bleak house,

while Thomas Gradgrind
feigns tubby bad company
during these hard times
temporarily all quietest

lull on the western front
since Donald Trump
detente foretold by a palmist,
whereby said President

of the United States
feeling as an optimist
met with Kim Jong-un,
(cautiously side stepping morass,
viz hit blind side dare devil hoodwinking,
via awe shucks faux bully)

suspending noninterventionist
impact unexpectedly witnessed leader
of North Korea as multilateralist
on historic June 12, 2018,

summit minus linguist,
where fist pumping in Singapore
for unilateral negotiations
offloading nationalism

weighing down
figurative chest i.e. kist
by resplendent sun, where ma lounge
sotto voce, somber solemnly
sober ensemble re: joist

uniting this stately isolationist,
whose approximate
ten stone heft easy to hoist
merely sustains purposelessness

this poem without a gist
hence if Yukon spare one
(or more cruxes) lemme be fist
in line, though first, aye
would need to convince thee
this scribe doth exist!