A Pontificating Performance

Today I fell and felt better
Just knowing this matters
I just feel stronger and sharper
Found a box of sharp objects
What a beautiful thing
Do you want a song of glory
Well I’m fucking screaming at you…

~*~

There isn’t a need to stick

Your sanctimonious wooden nose

High up and mighty in the air

For you reckon you’re so clever

And a marvellous timely troubadour

With your prevarications of despair

Oh, special, pretty, little white flower

The crowds adore your recherché

And a flounce of your plaited hair

But your hagiographic glass eyes and

Pinocchio nose impales mendacity

The audience bleeds whenever you share

Soon they will disperse haughtily

Leaving your stage in its desolation

And next time no one would give a care

So pray not be quite presumptuous

And see all sides of the icositetragon theatre

When you’re performing to be fair.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s