|
| |
Red Herring
Meandering paths through the forest of voices
We all hunt the Fox, the fox of truth and of choices.
Let loose the hounds that lose the scent.
The foul fishy flash that keeps their nose bent.
Sell your head scratching questions to buy the cheap thrill
From the glossy silver lips of the letters on the hill.
The grand distraction of planned attraction
Gets a bland reaction 'till they force down the pill.
Count on the fact the books make us bored.
“Is it time for the signal from Greenwich?”
This just in...your minds been twined with a flaxen cord.
Keep your eyes on the chest, leave the treasure ignored.
The gluttonous fat man with round swirly eyes
Circles through the channels as he shoves in the fries.
Ignorance is only the fault of the one.
He never opened a page or his mind ‘fore he dies.
The man on the horse knows his time is soon spent.
The dogs and the fish have open resent.
Cunning and silence keeps the fox so majestic.
The pray of the fish is to keep doG domestic.
Copyright ©
J Vernal Kennedy
|
|