The Piss Off Parade Is Coming To Town

The you can piss off parade

Collective jar of flies

Made its final rounds.

Chew the scenery

If you have a meagre minute…

“I’ve had enough”

The muse screamed

And deaf were the envious

Though she gave up the ghost

Vacating its former lot

Among the plebeian potluck

Spooned out for the naive brigade.

She drew her intake vapours

Through a smouldered wick

Cracked desert spillover

From cracked arrow

And pointed purse lips

For how the colossal truism

Or what have you

(If you’re starved of vocabulary)

Is that the eminent dim bulbs

Overstepping both logic and reality’s fist

Are shrouded by way of turncoat mists

But would you listen to her

Should you stumble upon a poem exiled

To an unflavoured isle

Seasoned ripe

But doomed to obscure plains

With pettiness and pride

The silly culprit

Pulled trickster lobster back

From an even sillier rabbit’s hat.

The brittle hearted muse

Was born to battle

Amongst a sunken halo’s

Blistered starfall

Charged with disintegrating furies

Their bloom blood ballet

Winking above tedium’s crest

Across a charcoal broiled sky.

And this is a pointed message for you

And this is a liturgy for I

When ignoble parasites crawl meekly

And kiss Jesus cheeks

With Judas ire

Best to step on them

Goeth the time ragged rhyme

For the vainglory stride

Crushes the poetic spirit

Because Dassendorf boots

Resound a drill hammer echo

Recalling the collective stampede…

And serves to the discerning

And additionally the wise

That the blind leading the blind

Cursed with quick reflective

Yet cursory flitting eyes

Are a servanthood of ingrates

Becoming the very machine

They once railed against

In a black and blue melee

Or an insider fight

Warring with each other

And eaten by homely pride.

Stepping off the floated parade

Says one who is wise

Because you’ll waste all of your pearls

On the backstabbing swine.