Grain Of Salt Poem by Laurence Overmire
Grain Of Salt
There's always some fool eager to criticize
Full of the majesty of his own inflated ego
New clothes invisibly draped ‘round the convolutions of
His brain
A diatribe, aimed at windmills, to lull the mindless to
Meek sleep
But it takes a wise man to see
The jester peeping from his own mad skull
The table always turned
Upside down
Wine flowing from the goblet to the jug.
~ Laurence Overmire
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8/29/2026 8:56:38 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
