Shall I compare me to a Bean called Mung&;#063;

Shall I compare me to a bean called Mung?
Or simply state that I am highly strung?
A wooden pharisee on castors
Providing postprandial anecdotes for sun-dried, randy pastors.

They call me the wrongdoer. Yeah, "the wrongdoer". Well, that's
cool.
I go to ground to ground myself, God's only fool.
Did I mention my piles?
The world's full of dear unctuous friends, all smiles.

While hips and haughty tabard tell their tale
The otter's quietly school'd in reading braille
The rest of us sup Pepsi-cola
But we'll still thank His Holiness to not dump us in Angola.

'Scuse fingers! No-one said that in a rush
Or made a petrified myrtle slightly blush.
"Illegal trading in buffoons":
Does Wall Street now wear powerful pantaloons?

I stumbled blindly from the shop, deeply impressed;
The viewless lungs of pleurisy did the rest.
There's wires we don't see
That suck the Fairy Liquid out the veins of thee and me.

I hate my little odious darling vault
It's not the rotting Bishop of Cardiff's fault.
My guardian angel was dismissed
For blithering too expressly at a wizened broker's cyst.

'Scuse finery! I'd as soon eat a dahlia
Or write a thousand-page critique of genitalia
With reference to th'approaching cold
And pain, and soaps, and toothache, and growing old.

Complaining is the only really capital crime
Destroying happy homes time after time.
L.J. was meek upon the block:
Thou shalt not stumble like sponge-brained, night-'fected stock.

But odd's vintners! Would that he were in my mouth
And I dilapidating slowly, all points south.
In Surbiton he was arrested -
"Here are the pointless children you requested".

It's long, it's grey, unspeakable at both ends,
Charred in the middle, slow to make amends,
Lives upon chilled umbrellas
And pisses autumn blood like all the other fellas.