Just write it
Don’t fight it
Hit publish
If it’s rubbish
Let people doubt it
And talk ‘ish’ about it
Like, “that sound is clouded-
It’s puddled on the grounds
Of muddled meaning”
Please read into the reasons
Why I sway leaves off
Tree tops season to season
Before you say my way
Isn’t pleasing
The haze off of hot days
With cold champagne sprays
And sun rays of Riesling
Under waterfall’s of cool shade
Where you laze
Eating Frito Layz off silver trays
Wearing a casual gaze
Eyeing my palatial styling
Keep reading and smiling
I’m piling soil for the seedlings
To seep in and coil out
Little pip-squeak sprouts
Sipping water for weeks
Until they’re tough enough
To withstand what people speak
And demand they take a seat
Before the lordly lore I store in ‘em
Unleashes, pouring at its peak
And each of you sucky leeches
Can run and duck and have prayed for luck
But get flambe’ed like duck
Basted at a pot-luck
Overcooked to dust
Where the guests say wtf
Disgustingly
Cuz they couldn’t lunch for free
That’s my hunch
You see