Lies Loom Tall Poem by John Sensele

I used to accuse Mr X
Whom I thought so vile with so much guile and a faulty fuse, so inconsiderate
Always away from the perks and hex of his ex
Who adroit agents assessed so angelic, so fantastic until fate

Sold me a bold, cold fold
That told me ‘You're dead wrong son'
‘Wait until she turns so cold before she gets old'
She'd wring your life lame until strings of rings require a ban

On barrages of mundane marriages
Would prevent poverty in a majority or minority or notoriety
So pathetic in braces of races of stress sack pretences of privileges
In hustled homes in which humility and dignity

Long evaporate beyond debate of late because overrated
Marriages mean mourning in the morning or nothing at all
But cold, old odium on a podium or sodium rated
Too high because their lies loom tall reeling to fall.