Thursday, July 9, 2015

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!






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