Granted men
Have every right under
The God given sun
To be as they wish,
Ignorant and bold,
Sarcastic and cocky,
Beautiful and ugly,
To be assailants to the kind at heart,
Those needing acceptance,
The lonely few with good souls,
And it is granted.

Where is justice
But in a verse,
Behind closed doors in your
Most private collection,
The guilded fist to air
In a drunken rage to what
You had seen earlier
And how we wish we had spoken
Up.

Granted we know it was wrong,
And as we have done nothing,
It was granted....
Oh to have punched his mouth,
Instead I bit my lips,
And they bled too.

an in-reverse onomatopoeia,
or rather, onomatopoeia
is how poets speak baby
to god before the waves
and the whirls of tornadoes
in tango...
who said man's words
ever compliment the already
void, hunting a labyrinth
in a cul de sac?
            man and no number
the man with a pair of
two left hands,
parasitic Vatican and:
    fascist libra foetus mafia...
fake... I don't want to
pay alimony before she
decides to have an abortion...
I'd start with petting
animals before raising children,
and, respecting your mother
till... you thirst for women
no more...
      hardly...
                what part of
"share the love" which isn't
share the misery is supposed
to be a Defoe invitation
by request, of Friday?