Lex Taylor

Rookie - 234 Points (1st June 1977)

Fake Resoruces - Poem by Lex Taylor

The dead have fun in calling us names,
Even mimicking and disrespecting,
With pathetic and fancy nicknames,
Which prompt a poetic justice deflecting,

Idiot bobicidal connotations,
Of another proletarian woodbine,
Their rank female scag adjudications,
As expected, from gross dead less than bovine,

Their mild, shy flattering was intercepted,
They are denounced and worked in these verses,
Goes without saying that they aren't accepted,
But taken as mere dead johnsoneses,

The cramped speeches of these commodities,
Their oxymorons, are sad oddities.

Topic(s) of this poem: cemetery

Form: Sonnet


Poet's Notes about The Poem

From The Matrix of Death series Vol 2, Guffs Of The Dead

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 30, 2015



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