Messtina

Some pride, my thinking cap’s for crap, it’s on backwards. My corduroy

a ploy for impostors; too inflamed or raged to say gee,

I see, I’m trapped, uninvited. A temporary camp to tramp I’m biv-

ou-wacked. Sole focus on the please, and cheese, and beef at Roy

Rogers. Hammerstein the wine heebie-jeebies. Maurice weirdest Bee Gee,

cover band fever on Saturday Night and sucking more poison than Bell Biv

Devoe, you know, they got smaller gods for Arundhati Roy,

boy. You see the tree of life is on fire. Wipe the smudge and squigee

bud, wiser. More goo than gooey ducks spelled geo, biv-

Halves and have nots, debating pics of burgers and roy-

Als with cheese. We’re passing orbits closer than perigee,

we circle around what’s right in front of us, ambiv-

A Lent of less meat, and promises not to destroy,

a ploy, to sell myself for less and regret, forget the mythiological refugee

land of impossible burgers. Can’t be an herbiv-

ore, or more, I need protein. Self-throw a blow of every line I know,

colors lead back to black on white ending in rainbow.