Middle March Madness
March middles and meanders
while munching on mild marigolds and
meekly mumbling melancholy meanings
about the miserable maladies of
migraines from mostly grasses and pollens.
Meanwhile, mealy mouthed moguls
make monotone messages about
monopolies while meandering
around the metropolis, moving
morosely like mundane mensches.
Maybe a masseuse with a
mustard mustache could
manipulate and mop up the
madness that has multiplied
over this mixed up millennium.
Mostly, though, we must march and
move to mitigate the mad man monarchy
or make a mad dash to Monrovia!
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