A bit of a puzzle.

What’s particularly interesting about this poem?

The pleasure of Shawn’s company
Is what I most enjoy.
He put a tack on Ms. Yancey’s chair
When she called him a horrible boy.
At the end of the month he was flinging two kittens
Across the width of the room.
I count on his schemes to show me a way now
Of getting away from my gloom.

Here’s a hint:  It was penned by Neal Whitman, who blogs about linguistics and phonology at Literal-Minded, at the request of an acquaintance in Hollywood.

Give up?  The answer’s in Neal’s post here.