A Party


Lackwits they wallow and close their drifting eyes,
Gorge their tarts and warm their hearts with ryes.
Once forgotten, the purpose of the night,
Their ales will leave them lacking any sight.
Look, they lie in corners empty--ah! Oh thoughtless groups.
There is a fire burning and no one sings
For water, water! And so no water he or she brings.
A boy is in the bathtub--must he die
By our inhumane society?
No, no: a gaggle takes his arm
Drags him through the door and on! Swarm,
The little minded man, pulled from a perilous bath,
Stumbling across the rug, vomits a mysterious path.
Wake up! Take sanity by the hair
There's a girl in that tree if you even care.
A white sheet in the wind, ah me! Now in the bushes
To the neighbors and everyone pushes.
My friends! Their coats sit lost. Oh well.
Where do we live? Who knows? Who can tell?
Excuse me--I am over here! Now over there!
Where do I live? I must ask, it's only fair!
I still cannot tell, please let my sight stop teasing.
He lives in Malibu, might that be more pleasing?

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem