Keys to the kingdom
Rusting on the chain
Unsolicited advice
Unrelenting pain

A million monkeys typing tails
Written but unread
Until they chance upon the one
That means just what it said

Abstract art and abstract alms
Turning stone to bread
Peonies piercing palms
Until the flowers bled

Bled upon the canvas white
Smeared red with his blood
Santa Claus looked such a fright
Caught eating Daddy’s food

Beauty lies in in between
Inside a cavern dark
Truth is beauty oft unseen
A dog without a bark

Rhyming couplets copulate
Keeping perfect thyme
Synchronously syncopate
Commit the perfect crime

In the dark the eyes best see
When looking indirect
Poems write their poetry
When poets don’t reflect

Let hands loose upon the keys
Like ants upon the hill
Let loose fingers lose your mind
To write some swine loved swill

Who knows what the world may think
Of this unfettered phrase
You may be the missing link
To some new-fangled faze
Of something some call poetry
In its declining days