“Who am I?” the Walrus said,
“I have to know before I’m dead.
And if the Cosmos will not say,
I’ll ask again another day.”
“You are a simple Disney clone,”
Said Cosmos when we were alone.
“You draw and color with your brain,
And tell some stories despite the strain.”
“You taught a while in the Monkey House,
And learned that students like to grouse,
But in the end will love your class
And will give you medals made of brass.”
“And your poems are filled with Angel words,
Both quite profound and yet absurd,
Because your mind soars far away
On winds of wild romantic play.”
“I guess that I can live with that,”
Said Walrus as he grew quite fat.
“And Mickey is the name I write
To sign my pictures in the light.
And that is all I have to say
To write myself in the crazy way.”