11:40 PM >> Yes, it is a poem

there once was a carp and a man with a lark
and a very, very big piece of clay

they made up a riddle and rode out a fiddle
and said that they'd return someday

over the river and through the woods

they rumbled and crumbled and stumbled where they stood

they're yearning and burning and learning and turning
and they sat to eat a fat piece of cake

nobody knew whatever they'd do
until they looked up and it all came true

the carp came forth and stitched up the lark
so it seemed all the truth was in vain

the man pulled the boots and threw out the crooks
and molded the very, very big clay

he created such mountains and vistas galore
the every-many entries but not sight of a door

travelling up there and down there and sideways all true
a face in a beanbag, a yellowing hue
a worming conundrum
the sky, sky turning blue