Weredog Tart (14)

   
   "Weredog Tart (14)"
   
Lance was full of hiraeth, wishing Mom were around,
Knowing his birth was a miracle by an Ivy League physician found;
Regardless, at home with an angry father,
The patriarch considering his son Lance Bantha fodder;
Thus, calling him a scrawny gimp with no brains or a Staubach arm--
He swung on his son, causing corporeal harm;
Specifically, a tooth knocked out and an eye black and blue--
It was ineffable, sticking on father and son like eternal glue;
As a result of this epoch not easily deleted,
Lance could do nothing save run; indeed, he retreated,
Sprinting the approximate ten miles to where Siria did reside,
In the suburbs next to Pittsburgh's illuminated side.
When he gave true testimony of what had happened,
Her fangs sprouted, and the depth of the truth she fathomed;
Hence, made him a seat on the sofa next to her drunken yet loving Dad;
Next, paid a visit to Lance's house, and his father, of her, was not glad,
Calling her an enabler of a soul destined for defeat;
Therefore, she sunk her incisors into his face, making him drop to his feet.
"Oh my Lord!  Oh my Lord!  Did I kill him?"
She cried and wailed, phobic concerning the wages of sin.