Celibate Coinage in Whitechapel Lane
Poem composition is a task the world adores
Though reading what's been written ain't so modish
Hence the mighty epics that collect in musty drawers
Rebuke us
Skeletal emission is a task the saints inspired
Though lily-pond athletics aren't so toadish
As fractures of the compound sort are always least required
Like mucus.
World emancipation is a goal we all embrace
(Though we can take or leave the antipodish)
Until we stream like seaweed through the voids of Outer Space
Or fructose.
'Slow deliberation' is the maxim of the wise
All save Col Saunders choose a slow dish
To serve unto the merchant folk who meals devise
& suck those
Westphelians think the end of time is near,
To poets, its very clear
That, as you progress through the poem, the scansion and rhyme-scheme go to bug
And crumble
Into dust akin to slime
But those of us with murder on our minds
Regret the casual felony that fiction often finds
Hence forth the wrath of the mighty slug doth creep through our minds
With no rhyme
| Contributors: | The Agent Apsley, Roland, Grayman, loaf, Stacy, nomi, TG, Davy, alec. |
| Poem finished: | 5th June 1999. |