Freddie Robinson Jr. Poet Burlesque

Lip Bent Overly Yours

Most dastardly
Executive Majesty,
we serve at your pique pleasure
obsequiously so 

Yea, Darth Lord,
we be the surreptitious, servile ones:
Leper skin publicans, publicly hiss reviled

Tonsil rear ends torqued low 
is our mealy-mouth status quo

We’re liquored up lap dogs

Always lip bent overly yours

Tongue rolls of surfeit flattery,
buttery tones of praise gluttony piled on

Nay, Imperial Vader,
we echo only your strident, bellyaching growls
from our sphincter pie holes

Boast bastardly
King El Presidente,
and we cower at your cheek displeasure
ingratiatingly so

Our speech undignified, 
flesh market wench pride
was thirty silver pieces sold 
minus six-feet degrees below

Aye, Commander-in-Chief Bellow Nero ...
Imp patient Sanballast ground zero,
your every atomic jinn wish gets grovel granted

We bow mice-men be the fawn minion pagan pawn devotees,
submissively submitting to such spittle humiliation willingly 

Ever always lip bent overly yours

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