Look lady aloft beyond your hormonal under carriage.
Belay your colonized mind. Look out anew.

Pentameter and troche, you lack a poem in your soul.
Your prettiness, your glacial stare, at that, beguiles me.
Your pettiness extenuates my unrequited honour roll!
Fill memories cherished roiling on our briefly living spree.

Look to your talents realistically. Thanatos wakes the mind.
Planned talent the poetry of design you do not have.

No more blighted expectations. Go your way. Stay salient.
Off chance meetings, coffee please, with vehemence deny you
Still I, of you, and don't forget, forever will be lenient.
As life careens and passes on its way do not remember.

Talk no more to me Laydee.
Of harmonic hegemonic reverie.

But then so what? Georgie IV gave reign to Nash
Not for talent but for cuckolding Fitzherbert.
Keep him busy keep him out of her morganatic stash
Nanaimo erstwhile miners would love to sneer at that.
So much the Georgian terrace. A role repeated here: eh wot!

Lest we forget. Let it be.
But hoist not the public un-believability.

The gulf that separates our metabolic stream of fecal body
Separates the incubation of our metabolic feral minds.
Ho, ho and stumble for a bumble and a slap and a toddy.
Kinetic entropy regales the distance of your sleek pretension.

Heterodox? Poppy cock. Explore yourself!
Conformity, look back, your living operandi.

Back track, dot the dots, regrouped and humbled
Contest the commas, with desperate intense extensions
In vain, low caps, upper caps, to a hope long crumbled.
Strike that clause. Pavane for a dying and gymkhana loss.

Hoist not my spinnaker, you weary me.
Now go away grow up and change.

Roger Kemble
January 11, 2005