A Haiku Haiku

Rascal, rascal thee, Who stole my pie from 'neath me. Your ears shall I box! Said Holy Jelly, 'Am I perfectly tasty?' The answer was 'yes'. Oh how so I gloat, To see James out in his boat, He is quite rubbish. All-in-ones he sports: He wears them with no remorse. I'm Inspector Morse. See his weary look, The path to the light is long, His burden'd back strong. *** Rude is the tumour Who dares to be a human. He shall be punished. Dermoid for a son? This is no fruit of my groin! Why curse me so, God? Skeletor is at The door. You must let him in, Make him wipe his shoes. James, James, doctor's son, Stole a pig, away he ran, Trotters for my tea. Snout so pert and fine, What a splendid specimine, Please put it in brine. Pig - were I but one Of those tasty porcine rogues, My flesh savoury. Blood-spattered tumour, His flesh melting all away. He was truly gay. *** He is so haughty, His mum said drugs were naughty, Naughty naughty drugs. I did not partake - Oh please don't beat me Mummy! Drugs are for bad boys! Say no to drugs, "no!", Ho, what a good boy I am, Good James, good. Good James. "I do not like God", Quoth he, but guess what I see: Him in Jesus Club. Shall he go to hell? No; and neither to heaven. For he is not man.