yes sir, right away ma'am

i am the turd in
your punchbowl i
am the burlesque
clown dancing on
the mass grave you
have us digging for
you
jimsonweed tea sir?

liles are in
bloom maybe they'll
let us
out to see them

poppies
now they'll sleep

if we're chosen
maybe they will allow
us to perform scientific
fellatio on our
masters jesters of the
new age blood
ritual
maybe they will allow
us to press the
holy wine in their
holy vineyards
and give us a shot
glass full at kiddychasm
yes a better
life awaits
maybe they will allow
us to pick the
cotton and work the
loom for the
cool in summer
dresses of their
spoils

gateposts quiver when
you walk through
as if to wish
they themselves could bow
down please don't hit
me no more

we will define
the new fun to
you stay tuned radar
up cowboy we
buried your spurs
jingle jangle this cabin
boy ride that
sawhorse polish them
pearl inlaid gold
commodes
i love the way your
tongue feels on my
boots

we will notify
you when we wish to
hear you speak fill
out the forms sign
on the dotted lie
you take dictation
well miss percoset
those restraints
look absolutely fabulous on
you

kids are
frolicking all bouncy
maybe we'll catch a
glimpse when they allow
us to milk the goats

how spicy do you
like your diarrhea
stew? thank you for
creating a shiteating
section in your banquet
hall more scallops sir?

don't snort yellow
powder boss excuse
me while i
piss in your
mint julep

 © John Kennan 4-11-21