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In my global village, Oxy, where folks live all alone,
There’s lots of open secrets, for secrets are well-known!

Fairly dark alien residents live with us above ground.
A dull roar or deafening silence you hear when they’re around.

In mobile homes, alone together, some big babies live,
hanging out with old boys. Head butts they like to give!

An idiot savant is here, and he is terribly nice.
His glasses are half empty, and he likes to use hot ice.

Non-working mothers are employed here as paid volunteers.
Infinite in number, earth angels are those dears.

One skinny broad likes idle gossip. With sad clowns she talks.
She gets cold sweats. In restless sleep, she wakens from sleep walks.

A petty officer with some lame effort likes to find romance.
She wears tight slacks but lusts for men who only wear dress pants.

A gentleman bandit had brief longing for a student teacher.
Her morbid humor was, for him, her second best feature.

Mostly in my village, folks are devilishly good.
Private citizen have open house in every neighborhood.

Others, though, are pretty ugly; some are really fake.
The highly depressed with quiet rage are just too hard to take!

All that aside, with mild enthusiasm, I must say,
I love the mud baths, rock gardens, and elevated subway.

Come visit. You’ll love our jumbo shrimp, local celebrities,
work holidays and free love; all make forgotten memories!


Written Aug. 26, 2016 for David Lindsay's Oxymoronic Obsession Contest
 
Every line has one or more oxymorons. This was great fun!

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