why are there L=A=N=G=P=O=L=I=C=E with syringes full of bleach lurking in the bushes outside my window?

{This poem is written in grammatically correct Klingon, the most successful arflang in history.There are some allowances here for poetic usage; since Klingon contains no equivalent for the words "corpse fucking," for example, this text reads "MILF."}

better be very sure your papers are in order [but only if you're into that kind of thing