To treat a bruised parrot on the shoulder of Sandalphon a starlet. Being squired for aseen parrot was naught something next to me. It screemed constantly,... "Just let it in." Do parrots think possibly to much annoying. To teach a parrot use oil, place it on every feather every wing. and then ask it to write, like some thing it can read. If a parrot reeds a child does it know what to mean. Does it add surepititiously to the being, any virtue, any thing.
Mountebanks and madmen And marvelous maidens Populate and pollute politics Which joss sticks cannot chase Or alleviate the electorate In its counter clockwise swirl Down its own bathroom drain. Only morals don’t ameliorate It only exacerbates, enervates Rather than eliminates the pain.
The pain is felt by franklins, Never the nobles or magnates; They go on and make play dates With other multi-billionaires In debonair pied-a-terre lofts And scoff at the peasantry While exchanging pleasantries Over gold-laced desserts Thinking nobody gets hurt If they pilfer and pillage Far off village and town Tearing down and razing, With life grazing scorched earth.
To the rich, nobody has worth; Voices that implore are muted And garbage-chuted in the press. Nothing to confess, the smile; A mile of porcelainized teeth Made more intense by pretense That importance is impotence In the face of extreme wealth When stealth cease efficacy And delicacy isn’t required. The moral judge is fired. A new wife is squired In hopes a son is sired To take over the empire.
The other night you said You could never love like this again Your stare piercing each vessel As it squired uncomfortably Underneath my skin
Everybody knows Just exactly what it is I did There’s no holds barred, now and I plan to go down with my sin
She holds her breath Praying she doesn’t see her again It’s own sick form of torment To the transgressor and the transgressed Every time a car rolls by “Has she come to take you, is the time here yet?” For her it isn’t if, it’s when
I gave away what was not mine to squander and You’ll call me a liar, worse yet but For every shred Of evidence I left I too left the key for your vengeance
and I hope you’ll wield your weapon wisely For this shot, Its the last one I’ve got
So I ram the rod down the shaft Compressing the powder Lick my fingers clean Of the filth I’ve wallowed in I’d shed a tear, but what’s left is a monster The girl I was, she won’t come back to haunt you She’s given up too much hope for that
knight in shining armor (a little rust from all the tears) as here i wait for You my Dear (its clear regardless of the years) for only You to which be squired (straights are dire until transpired) passions pyre set afire (in the moment You are near) if You will hear this voice a whisper (and to heart in which it speaks) again its You and You alone upon this quest that i do seek