scruta

Either you are sorting it out, or you are full of it.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Just An Appreciative Note

Cast it into your mind, burn it

Into the inky grottoes of your hands, you

Aspiring verse varnishers:

We impecunious pugilists of poesy

Tread many paths,

So many that they would ask us

How many styles the universe would weave in her unveiling,

Bidden bride that she is

Coyer still as we read her vows.

We, who are lovers perverse as possible

Sleeping on the sepulchers of

Our ancient polyglotted professors

Licking the gritty granite

Sanding our teeth on the cenotaphs.

We, who bankrupt the bandits

With eternal promises of eternal life,

Sitting at their banquets, bibulously

Devouring and disdaining all that sits

And flits and waddles before our eyes,

Hypocritically calling beyond this brine of truculent tyrannies,

Howling those words to undue our patron’s plans

Equality! freedom! wisdom!

Howling them at such a pace

The dervishes deign to dance

And our alliterative angles

Finally find a voice.

We, who make the lovers weep

To etch in their hearts

Our little songs cut deep.

We, who make the madmen sane

Who give the pundits pause

We, who stop the mobs of men

And garner their applause.

We, who find the words

That let us all adore

Our favorite thing

Is just an appreciative note

This and nothing more.

posted by ferret at 1:07 am  

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