how goes the worship of (male) poets

Here’s my draft for today Friday 04.26.19.

how goes the worship of (male) poets

let us bow our heads
pray, now the ave hour is upon us, men
it is the pennant gift of warble time
for rhyme we must, therefore get garbling
write on,
keep mumbleizing for this time
deep cogitation of the focused mind
of course, with none other
than the divine aid of our ladies of friends

bene, there must be our ladies of friends
their inspiration, heavenly intervention
warming all our flesh and blood
to swell our words to lip, and shoot to pen

then, hey, so what about the women
oh visionaries of great work to come
where are they now

oh come, oh come

oh no

oh yes, sadly I’m afraid to say
they’ve gone, disappeared, poof
left the building, and everything they meant
their cashmere sweater smooth voices said
they’ve taken with them, memories
those strong arms and firmament breasts
forever young, elysianly inspiration sent
wherefore they’re not
amen

ps: oh hell, how about some beers, and then some songs

ah, men, that never does the trick at all

I tell you, foreboding music playing
you be sure as sure religiously
to tip your hat to them and genuflect deeply
with utmost feeling poured respectfully
should they ever deign to come our way again

let them know you damn well mean your thank-yous
pledge your constant dedication to their desired caresses
your steadfast fingers rippling ever through their tresses

because all we got now, men, I say unto you
is what we’re holding in our hands and beads
of sweat we’re soon to pay
so I’d say
it’s pretty much a premature good evening
to those ladies’s fainting memory

okay then, men, good night, ladies
for now, a quick good night
and just like that we’re dead

pens down

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