Nothing's New
If nothing's new under the Sun,
whence, pray tell, did this poem come?
My Ego itches, my side in stitches-
When Morning thoughts have their fun.
Bring the houris and tell them stories-
thine odalisques should fawn
O'er the glories of our quarries-
before the day has dawned.
Copyright © Just That Archaic Poet | Year Posted 2014
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