his pockets were rather deep
wherein money galore was stored
the large loads of funds
catered to his every whim

one day a bright notion
sparked in the mind
to employ a mouthpiece
who'd spin his very line

of an effective voice was she
using her ventriloquist's act
in spreading his messages
throughout the vast lee

no doubt their arrangement
has a servant and master flair
on the huge fortune
nothing wouldst be spared

to-day they'll co-ordinate
the mission's pitch again
so as it sends his note
in the apropo vein

And like that.
She eased the piece into the groove.
Nestling it close to her lips.
Suddenly her eyes closed,
That horn came to life.
Wide-eyed and bushey tailed.
Stretching it's yawn.
It walked around, journeying to the closest city.
Taking a mid day drive,
Wiping sleep from it's eyes.
It's twelve day noon.
Vocalizing it's croon.
The conflict of working long hours.
Two jobs, a mother of one.
Getting out the bed late.
Trying to remember if she's paid this month's bill or not.
The debate of taking the day off.
Sealed inside it's case.
To sleep the day away.
This weary horn.
With the kid off to school.
She has but a minute.
A loud yawn, the release of stress from a demanding boss.
Every croon loud and long.
A testimony of deep long sigh.
The valves pressed by weary fingers.
A mother of one finds deliverance

Soliloquys of repitoires
He pulls out the demon-arm
To see if harm
Feels better than being alone.
His hearts at "home..."
He roams...
To feed...
Lion.
Poet.
Warrior.
We...
He has needs.