Watch how hoarse
they get when
you ask them
to cite their
sources…
silence,
as it reveals
that they are
devoid of content
that is wisdom,
no segues
to higher thought
just bloviating
nonsense
from the larynx…
while having the
nerve not
to give deference
to grammar,
so thusly…
I must rustle
in my bag
of poetic frequencies
to give the denizens
of Earth
something
to make their
brain stem dance…
as these Youngbloods
ain’t ready,
trafficking in conspiracy
and tomfoolery…
no earnestness
for the diplomacy
of comprehension
by way of reading books.
Lordy be…
our gooses are cooked,
but I’ll be damned
as I’m a Pescatarian
no poultry on my plate…
as I reiterate
about these turkeys
golden, orange and
gobbling…
bloated and uneloquently
insisting…
that hate is great,
but I digress.
Keep listening to these
jesters,
wobbly from cough syrup –
leaning over in their
stirrups.
Another warning…
The only ones who can save us, is us, but we won’t accomplish the task if we don’t like each other so much.
A reading of said piece as an iteration of the Pa and Son Adventures...
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