I’d a lumbar crack the other day;
I weep now because I’m not OK.

(He’d a lumbar crack…should stay away;
He weeps because the quack made his play.)

Yes, I could feel that wrenching crunch
in dorsal territory.
I’m limping and I’m hurting in L5’s vicinity.

(Yes, he could feel that inept crunch
in dorsal territory.
He’s bitching and he’s cursing like sailors long out at sea.)

I’d a lumbar crack, and now l pay:
Can’t sleep at night and I hurt all day.

Oh, formerly, I’d skip and jump
and frolic ’round for hours.
Now putting on my clothing takes all my mustered powers.

(Oh, formerly, he’d skip and jump
and frolic ’round for hours.
But now when he is soaping, he’s cussing in the shower.)

I’d a lumbar crack the other day;
I creep now because I can’t sashay.

My low back feels like rusted steel
poorly made in China.
I can’t service my girlie’s man-craving vagina.

(His woe back feels like weakened steel
made poorly in China.
He can’t “sir-vice” his girlie’s gland-craving vagina.)

She’s a lambent crack, aflame all day.
She needs a fireman with hose array.
Goes to my chiropractor, gets manipulated.
His practice made it how she’s now man’s niche-tool-sated.