.
O the trender souls who keep
Spewing their ladled ornaments,
Words even a dull, starving bird
Would not gobble, plastic pieces,
Rambles of thought, unthought,
Pretty sounding, shiny trinkets,
Merely nailed by some old book,
Or a dog eared dictionary, maybe,
Some pulpy article wherein hacks,
Dreamt with loss, sad aspirations,
These are the dug trailings of fools,
Lazy, writers who fancy themselves,
Fancying themselves, in a black mirror,
Merciful as imagination and delusion,
O how the neophyte sings without any
Voice, nor depth, nor taste, nor blood,
Conscious revels in unconsciousness,
O but lame awaits the vain, the shallow,
The self proclaimed, the peacock, but, their
Showtime is only something base, something
Not and ghost peculiar, something only a carny
Would know to mock, revile as he promotes.
How glittering are the newest word baubles,
Blathering speak to mask all faceless souls,
Twaddle, twitterings, revered by simpletons.
Oct 11, 2015
Oct 11, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
.
O the trender souls who keep
Spewing their ladled ornaments,
Words even a dull, starving bird
Would not gobble, plastic pieces,
Rambles of thought, unthought,
Pretty sounding, shiny trinkets,
Merely nailed by some old book,
Or a dog eared dictionary, maybe,
Some pulpy article wherein hacks,
Dreamt with loss, sad aspirations,
These are the dug trailings of fools,
Lazy, writers who fancy themselves,
Fancying themselves, in a black mirror,
Merciful as imagination and delusion,
O how the neophyte sings without any
Voice, nor depth, nor taste, nor blood,
Conscious revels in unconsciousness,
O but lame awaits the vain, the shallow,
The self proclaimed, the peacock, but, their
Showtime is only something base, something
Not and ghost peculiar, something only a carny
Would know to mock, revile as he promotes.
How glittering are the newest word baubles,
Blathering speak to mask all faceless souls,
Twaddle, twitterings, revered by simpletons.
