I love this, even though a jury armed with the text of this poem would lock me up and throw away the key.
I learned at some point fairly early in my life that if you speak in a grammatically correct and articulate way, two things happen. One, people find you insufferable. And two, nobody listens to you. I have, I know, overcorrected, and it's tragic, because my flabby brain no longer knows any interesting nouns, adjectives, or verbs, and I can't help but feel, every time I have to spend more than twenty seconds finding a word that got lost in my subconscious by the age of 14, that it's the equivalent of being morally bankrupt.
But that's a beautiful poem, and a lovely visual to go with it.