Sometimes You Write Like This

O parsonage of plutocrats
what shall I do with you?
Proverbial un-herded cats –
please don't impede my view

of what conspires beyond the lake
to get into my pants –

perversely and at last to break
the gifts that Pluto grants

into unwonted brandied bits
of crusts the sparrow eats –
whose flock, collectively, then spits

its roughage into streets

down which there is no likelihood
of ever finding fame
much less of gathering much wood
to burn – to warm – my name!

.