How can you not love this!

Poems everybody poems, the laddy reckons himself a poet!

(I write poetry,) I got a little black book with my poems in, a bag toothbrush and a comb. When im a good dog they sometimes throw me a bone. I got wild staring eyes, and i got a strong urge to fly, but i got no where to fly to, fly to, fly to. I got electric lights and I got second sight, and that is how i know, when i try and get through on the telephone to you, I know there will be nobody home!