Made of something far less ordinary;
A numbered echelon, all in binary.
Think twice before the engine sputters,
Around about six and twenty cutters.
Jaws around a loosely wrapped mirage;
Courted out from within a light garage.
Blithely courting dust, down the crust;
Sleighs draw high between love and lust.
Like a hurricane that comes on fast,
Repeated twice, making sure they passed.