Ungodly as a child's shriek
I hear the politicians speak.
O Cacophony, goddess of jazz and of quarrels,
What popular idiot gave you the poet’s laurels?
Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi.
He hopes his mates don’t see him and think him a sissy.
60th High School Reunion
Fat always, and out of breath,
So many of us have caught our death.
“How now,” Father Shawn crisply addressed the ghost,
“Won’t you have a slice of this heavenly host?”
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking,
But what I don’t want to do is smell it stinking.
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