There are no furrows
no laddered brow
No significant indications
Anywhere or anyhow

You are bilge
with no ship to pump
No weathered inconviences
decked for your boots to stomp

The aggies are aged . . adjacent to your dreams
A cats eye cast before the swine isn't what you think it means

A black hole exists in the balance of my thoughts
While all of my tangibles
get ****** into it's noughts

No I don't know who the  Ripper really was
For he was silent whispers
caked upon the lips and
killing was his buzz