Neath the guise of ever steeping guidelines
we singers of verse between psalm and treachery
Praise the separatist of civil ambiguity
callously staged liars set to remark
Each in a mutter, the scoffing of one's own self
undoing torn stitch and staple upon which we serve the bread of this very table
Fictitious fables spoke then wrote in fashion
to mid-life moans, beggar harken sonnets made of grovels
Parading effigies proudly in the swoll of ignorance
tossing all the while handfuls of ancestral ashes