The Man who Moved too Much

Back to publishing poems from 2009 then. Another one written in English class while my teacher was AWOL, but this time only by me.

The Man who Moved too Much

Ever is a long time for some people.
Taking holistic grants under charitable guises,
basking in swelled fortune, and enjoying
synthetic salmon heads along brisk reverie.

Then they go and commit perjury - lies
not large enough to trick a pumpkin
decomposing freely - and find themselves
in cynical pots of silicon momentum.

Jam donuts don't add to their cholesterol,
only conceding binge nightcaps and ambrosial
bones - fringed nightngale wings are too
expensive for dyslexic proletariat halfwits.

Lips sealed by adventurous mermaids -
treacherous vixen bitches - and metallic
stain of last hypocrisy brings subdued
contractions to a cheating halt.

Deceit in philanthropy - the industrial
potion of infamous gargoyles - dictates
masculine agenda to prove
institutionalised debris. Thanks a million!

No more second hand down your pants -
utility function approaches twilight.
The sworn vow - solemn yet farcical -
dissipates into dusting upon hot chocolate.

Never is a short time for men of virtue.