To write well or
At least at length
On what no one
Wants to waste time
Or a mind on,
Now that’s real waste,
That’s sauce from blood
Drained off a myth,
That’s this. Fred could
Burn lutes to cook
Cranes, but this just
Serves wood ash with brains.
Oh, it’s so dull
To read this poem.
Put it down. Gross.
Don’t play with bones.
Sunday, January 31, 2021
To Burn a Lute to Cook a Crane
