And the generalists knew one better
preaching to the converted
They have risen above their parapet
Industrious said the observer
as the moon made a foray
anywhere else
Have you seen the sun rise
Repeating in its perpetuality
Then blow the burgles
for news to come back in my time,
eavesdropping like elf's ears
as the specialists made their first foray
under dawns reign
Awesome armies
the kings very own
We came here despite singing over burgles
Dustmen under contract
Lilies lay bleeding in black bags
We are still whistling
Chickens languishing in street
Actresses older than thought
give commandeering comedies
Tis the talk of the town
cuckold husbands straddling
the saddle of despair
Moonbeams spun on cobwebs
laced through with dew.
Daybreak bugles
then burgles
as light enters its brazen domain.
Old Horace
wakes from his untidy cot;
an uncertain pause, then:
carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero,
for cobwebs, like tomorrow, are frail
and this day is a blade
to seize as you may.
Five fingers of joy
slyly, coyly burgles; he's
absconding with koi.
As you like it, as you wish;
carpe carpum: seize the fish!
—————-
POTD 0/28/2022
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