he got his many bucks
from outliving all those clucks
and marrying into more...
but don't call him a whore
he's always known the value
of baskets full of eggs
his heart may well be shallow
but he thinks, on feet and legs
I may think him callous,
in honesty, I'm jealous...

if we were still related
life could be less syncopated
true, I might have died of boredom
h'mmm, that I'll never know...
but for the lack of condom
that's how the winds do blow
and blow is what I did...
when still a silly kid,
I refused to live with anger
or to pander to that rage
so I left the prickly manger
and turned another page....
now I'm tired of rhyming
and this doggerelly mess
won't end with 'I confess'....
ooooops...just did...'>)

another excerpt from 'broken meter tales'...'>)

by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

Other poems of CONTRAPUNCTAL.... YES, THAT'S HOW I INTENDED TO SPELL IT......... (816)

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sometimes transcendent/sometimes not