At Sea With My Cup Of Tea Poem by John Sensele

To bake a fake cake is a worse mistake
Monumental mistakes metamorphose into an earthquake
Exploding into a digression
From which reeks an egregious expression
That sucks no matter how many times I duck
The bullet for the pullet I buy with the last buck
Concealed in seals and wheels
Fortune flaunts when the essence of conscience peels
The veneer of verisimilitude I project
When the vulnerable to punishing poverty I subject
Owing to the possession position I hold
Shunting aside the proof I withhold
To sanitize and satirize the truth
Growing more uncouth
Till vestiges of hope die
And traces of justice murder they cry
While I ride the high horse
Boasting ‘I'm the boss'
No one can touch my tunic
And grow more photogenic and iconic
As long as the sun rises
And my muscular might springs surprises
For all to see
As honey and money glow from the bee
I call mine
Even if at no time I repine.