You can call me a Saint,  you can call me the devil
But at lest my head is on nice and level

Yours was not
It was in the wrong spot
It was leaning to one side
You where looking at me kinda snide
I got tired of you showing nothing but scoff
So I chopped it off

With your head now planted firmly on my lap
Lips no longer continually flap
I'll sit and enjoy the silence,  petting you like the Cheshire Cat
Making sure your eyes are turned, enjoy the view of where your body fell flat

Copyright: Pauline Russell   10-5-16

Pusillanimous polecats
Practicing perfidy
Plan parties and
Parse probabilities proudly
Partially putting past
The paltry populace
Pornographic postulations
And potboilers
Pointing poisonous
Proclamations publically
Pitting proper people
To pathetic programs
Promising the penurious
More poverty.
Often posthumously.

Pitiful people plead
Putting need over posture
Putting parents out to pasture
Promising, but passing on
Proper placement of
Propriety and parity
Planting nothing for posterity,
Prizing prosperity
Politicizing with polemics
Post-mortems on politeness
Placing pandering
Higher in practice
By perpetrating
Practical party politics.