Laugh in Letters(1)
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The Poet Lies.
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Words shorn of Nature's meaning
Twisted by men crafting meaning;
Buriers of core of life's fractures
In a deep bunker o' plot structures.
To these men we've given uncommon space
To play plain fraud like an ace.
Hear them say:' Crickets roar'd in the wood
And elephants flew with their food!'
By them, Love's hate misspelt,
And all crimes are hidden under its belt.
The poet is an Octopus
His shades o' meaning a thousand-plus
He serves his lies with rococo
So, with thrill we read and simply let go
(c). SAA.
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