Clarity

Of what it unraveled in indecipherable iron
Nothing bares naked out of disrespect of many blades of artificial Easter decorative grass
Outside of many lightbulbs I pass out
The whistles that batter me, with heavinessRarely, if you should speak with clarity
It drops memorable things of varying levels of smoothness
But she what you are unrelenting, she that you are
And a dog of no relation to the stiff-orders fluffs her last quiet (goose?)
Rarely when a pebble ceases, a cheerful majority lower their feet