On his wrist, on his wrist…
There’s a cyst on his wrist

I insist, I insist!
There’s a cyst on his wrist

Announced Bartholomew Griffinelbist
Yelling and pounding the air with his fist

Oh dear, what a shame, I just can’t resist
To ask who it is with cyst in his wrist

It is he of the cube, said Griffinelbist,
The one dubbed the cubing adventurer-ist

‘Tis a shame that his wrist seems so badly kissed
Under the skin a boulder from ole Sisyphus

Through pain and discomfort and a drive through the mist
To the surgeon he went, seeking help to enlist

Any method to erase all that seemed to exist
In connection with the giant cyst in his wrist

Excise it, we’ll do, the surgeon he hissed
With the help of a good anesthesiologist

On Thursday upcoming au revoir to the cyst
To that bump that surely will never be missed

Concluded Bartholomew Griffinelbist