A Toast To The Imbecile

I have diverted syntax in the way of

Drinking; that ‘round the dull’d climax thereof;

Thinking in the way of repetition,

As the Elephants of Inebriation,

Simple-small afloat the daft deluge,

Pining in a refute of discourse;

Justification in the bottle's refuge,

As the ample bite of the Serpent's chord;

We slur obvious ambiguity

With the pleasure of a fiercer burn,

Dexterity in measured levity,

Like Human ash, scorched and weighed for the urn.

Let us go, that we may no longer see,

Cool out of a draft's amber desire;

Within the comp'ny of the Lesser Key,

And Hark the tune of the Stool and the Lyre:

A toast to many a drowned imbecile,

That the Dead may go with such luck,

Out o' Life's tormented spoke and axle,

Let us drink to the comforts o' the muck!

A Day At The Circus

Oh! What a glorious day at the circus!

Stupendous, Grand, Enchanting, Brilliant!

Oh, the Acts and the Elephants near us,

Trapeze, in the Topaz, and Militant;

I say, and the fire-eaters and the freaks,

In this carnival, so stripped for tickets,

And tips, what ornate displays of Neat;

The jugglers, and the dragon-mouthed midgets,

I saw the Acrobats and the trained monkeys;

Oh! What an illusion so devoid o’ certainty,

And the candle-whip, and tight-rope walkers;

The Clown, in the end, was the Ring-Master!

T’was awesome and incredibly intrinsic,

The appeased sight of this catty linguistic;

From behind this cage, the whip and the Stool,

“Get the lion’s chain ready, you Fool!”

I still have my performance left to do,

I still have my performance left to do…