A Poem

You Can’t Judge a Book by its Cover

As an autodidact, I’m not exactly scholastic.

And I’m obstreperously iconoclastic

I’m provincial, eristic and habitually bibulous

In appearance I’m nothing short of ridiculous

My modus vivendi offends the bougeois

Supercilious myrmidons that they are

They often assume that I’m less that linguistic

I like to remind them, that’s just jingoistic