The Sour Heart, a poem by Prince John of B. of B.

In my own World
I blog, flustered, boorish,
Who, splayed upon the floor,
Grip my sour heart in my palms,
And ate of the sour.
I said to K.T., “Good? K.T., is it Good?”
“It is sour, Most Sour,” K.T. echoed, 

“Still I like it, K.T.";
“Because it is of sour,
And of that sour is my heart.”