Brazen Bamboos Poem by John Sensele

Fools and their tools suck
Thinking trash, acting brash
Riding with wolf packs on a puck
Till in the end they crash.

Fools and their spools
Roll on thin ice
Brandishing a red flag to bulls
Who tear to pieces their dice.

Fools and their wool wither
Flying on a broomstick
Rousing rabble that doesn't dither
Till on their backs they absorb a kick

Fools and their school strafe
Their own future
Frolicking in webs of bluff
Till brains in the end suffer a suture.

Fools and their doodles awaken
Rummaging for lost opportunity
That has vacated their ken
Fed up with foibles of impunity.

Fools and their loops lose their way
Pleading for sanity's forgiveness
Which repels them to waylay
Attitude and ingratitude steeped in boastfulness.