The Jester, when he wakes
Finds he has a head full of maps
And no-where to go.
He rolls out to shave, looking for
A madcap renewal service and
Cursing the stubborness of nouns.

"Damn the nouns, nouns, nouns , nouns!"
"Damn the nouns, nouns, nouns! The nouns
Are all against me!", he yells into the mirror behind the sink.
The fog of new water hides the smirk
Of his reflection, and then the wink.
The reason nouns are up in arms is a rumor they have heard,
That he had muttered it in his fitful sleep: "God is a Verb."