Monday, July 24, 2017

Big Fat Liar

Bogus lips who wave and waddle in
A wind of fabrication. 
Bastardized capitulation to the 
Terms of simple reason, 
Killing any last good hope that 
Principal might will and win.
Withering on sun-dried porches, 
Wallow in your dismal dregs.

When did it become such labor? 
Such a ruesome journey just to 
Find a fact and lay it out in
Rhythmic sweet simplicity.

When did stealth subversiveness 
Become the ruling master plan? 
Is it greed? Is it mead to 
Grace the face of conversation?

Am I ill to be pragmatic? 
Wanting fact in place of ilk.
Cast your fate with yellow dogs 
When truth subverts to holiday.

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