Portraits Of Three Gentlemen - Poem by Tony Towle
On any given subject,
when encouraged by the absence of his wife,
he would squeak with complete authority.
There on the plinth of self-gratification,
attended by sloth and disarray,
his tamest dreams came true.
After a strenuous lifetime spent punching the air
in a permanent sparring with fact and sentiment,
he retired to his identical estate.
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