Bodacious, blustery bags of wind.
Oh, superficial blunder-buster,
Must the world in pain endure
Another of your eerie flusters?
Flailing listlessly about in
Costumed plumage meant to hide
The masked profusion of confusion
That the truth holds deep inside.
Why must you purvey deceit?
Why such armor after all we’ve shared
In our brief history?
There’s no need to keep this wall
Between us when in simple terms
The kinder unembellished tale
Makes sweeter pudding for dessert,
Plays gentler winds upon the sail.
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