Can You Please Wait A Second...?

In steed of ye
mounting your stock
key high horse,
perhaps named Rock

Key, and head off...lock
stock and barrel,
who knows where,
now lemme seat chew wait

ma self, and quickly knock
out quick mention about
hour (meaning everybody
within the wide world),

and their webbed
warp and woof weave
courtesy of Father Time
analogously to a jock

key hunkering down
aiming tubby first
crossing finish line
at races, afterwards celebrate

with social feted outing, while
scheduling proctologist appointment,
et cetera, sans squeezing
late radio talk ad hoc

meeting, an
extemporaneous yet timely
lesson indirectly related
to bird dogging, i.e. migrating

fast as Glock
pistol can shoot, essentially
sound (garden) resembling
joyus honking flock

of seagulls heading
Southside Johnny
and Asbury Jukes,
and on Tortoise 

to sea dock
side of the moon
Pink Floyd attired as Teenage
Mutant Ninja Turtle,

whose schedule Nsync
with YES men hosting
showtime merely minutes away...
remember ring that char existence

enslaved to thee a bomb
been nibble atomic clock,
which device uses an electron
transition frequency went

sallying forth in
the microwave tent,
experiencing optical radiation pent
up ether, or ultra

violet region meant
for electromagnetic fervent
active spectrum, or Palestra event
of atoms comprising

Adam and the Ants
(as well all other matter)
linkedin to frequency standard for
timekeeping Strunk and White
element of style.