Does He Eat Lunch?

Up past the Lake of Willow Park,
I took my lipstick spy camera.

Past the potted pink azalea, Stringy strode,
In the cluster of his node,
By that I mean the kitchen where he writes his elegies.

Stringy hummed until he tripped
On that curmudgeonly tile in his kitch;
The potted azalea somewhat looking on...
My lipstick spy camera beeped,
"This is where I belong."

Stringy of Up Past Willow Park Lake,
Fixed himself lunch,
Yes, a turkey Swiss cake,
And nibbled only a little bit on this wonder.
Now Skinny boy, My Spy Camera sensed over-the-mountain thunder,
Crackling, Stringy checked his beard and began to wonder.