Open Poetry #7 |
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Bull |
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H. Arlequin Member
since 1999-08-23
Posts 210 |
Bull The breasts of Britain nurse the famished of the world, their fullness overflows the greedy mouths of sin to be, which grow averse to tribute paid, and swirled the spout whose maelstrom grows to drown all it draws in. Since Spain and France were slow to dance, John Bull inspired the ball to masquerade; tired of their pirouette that aging gigolo would waltz when he desired, like Le Marquis de Sade he'd wear their garters yet. From Macbeth's tartan skirt atop his craggy moor, to Flanagan's redoubt and Welchman cobby horse none wears the others shirt, for stink they can't endure. Independence, the shout, where blood begs no remorse. --Fr. Veni di Morte . . . . . Poems from the Goober Tree http://nathoo.wustl.edu/goober_tree.htm [This message has been edited by H. Arlequin (edited 05-04-2000).] |
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