Threaten Me But Do Not Poison Me

A perverts purpose, whilst wiling away willingly in putrid pity, Is to be argumentatively ambivalent and contumely cheeky, Thus, presenting pandemonium, and capturing creativity, Leaving lustful lawbreaking for contrived carnal cannibalism, Demons duck around corners, casual catastrophes consume us, Furtive felines furrily escape notice, tensely tentative, A preacherman pursues plausible punditry to pitch around, In evangelistic efforts effusing religious rhetoric rightously, Little I, loathsome to labeling, lay around, loquaciously, Telling terrible truths to all that will tolerate my toiling, Oh, be the offerings of old, oafish offendings, occasionally, And, timid tamarind toasting tarts, eating elves and earthworms, Chasing catapults for crass cabals, hoping to heat hells halls, Where be whores and whoremongers, those juicy joybringers jubilant, Can we call the caretaker, and cancel this clique, before Christmas, Maybe tomorrow because tonight is totaled, and in traction, So, what can we solicit from so-called society and secret schedules, Nothing; not noticeable are netherworld nuances, or newer nitwits, Planning to plant particularly painful partnerships in puberty, Humans having no husk to protect, are prone to pacifism presumably. Written April 8th, 2002 © on Apr 07 2002 04:09 PM PST   10 • 0