Monocle Eye

It’s a tinderbox of yield again.
Please renew your bile personality,
Your bigamist persecutions,
Your bigwig persimmons.

The anteroom persuasion femur
Is $25.00 per grudge.

Brass electrodes—$1.00.
Truncheon—Free.

Your felonies pass for antelope bile.
Your peewits walk on our farewell drugs.

I’m on a getaway rendition
For your salami in a sphinx lineup.

Is that tincture of yew again?
Are you timekeeping your yearbook?

Drowse on the signalman
& tear up the semaphores—
The house is 35 mm rectangular
& there were 11 time zones in the U.S.S.R.

So decanter the yogis
& press the psychosis dry—
You walk in on every signatory
Scratching out their codicils.

Your last will & testament
Intemperate & bereft—
Bequeathing to your 9 lineages
Mere gallstones & treacle.

You gasbag—
You monocle-eyed blue meanie.

What I’m Reading:

“These days I wake in the used light of someone’s spent life. / I am often a stranger to myself; / I have no place of origin, no home.”

— Cheswayo Mphanza / “Frame Six”