A fiddler missed the que
The que card would bring
Question as fiddling took part
As stage was want
The fixer was consumed
In dread and dreams of fashioned least
A chair and a rarity did conform
Embezzled fright as scolding might?
Appear as we, the people of the news we wasn't
Not a new profit shells well, dear
The Successful Economist
Intermittent incidents flash across my screen
Faces, places, of where and what I have been.
Did I really do all those things
A far false memory that springs
From chasms in my brain
Hazy lazy clouds of pain
Anguish of a distant happy now gone
A faded contest of life I have not won
Who ran with me are no more
A fleeting step of lost encore
And yet I go on with triumph past
To walk one more path
It is the last.
My muse is a sieve
it pans for gold
it’s a strainer
a skimmer
a fat separator
it tumbles boulders
until pebbles are formed
it can chew on a feeling
for days weeks or years
til it spits out a poem
my polished
my crystallized
bits of awe and woe
Meet a man that fudges from the fence,
Little he says ever makes great sense.
His views, all but humdrum,
That he deems great wisdom,
And he’s been hedging O for long hence.
_____________________________________
Tongue-in-cheek |09.01.2021|
Topic: economist, humour
Trump Became Erotic Economist
Trump soon became an erotic economist;
Has added many more lies to his long list;
Does perturb,
And should curb;
Remove him from office is what we insist.
Jim Horn
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