Answer:
He's dead with a metal bar across his back. When a woman sees him, she is very pleased. This was all perfectly legal. What's going on?
Long and slinky like a trout, never sings till it's guts come out.
I can be written, I can be spoken, I can be exposed, I can be broken.
Many have heard it, but nobody has ever seen it. It will not speak until spoken to. What is it?
I heard of a wonder, of words moth-eaten. That is a strange thing, I thought, weird. That a man's song be swallowed by a worm. His blinded sentences, his bedside stand-by rustled in the night - and the robber-guest. Not one wit the wiser. For the words he had mumbled.
When someone uses this acronym, you know you've got to pick up the pace