Maul The Loose Tiger Poem by John Sensele

Steamroll the roller coaster
That spins high and wins souls
Of urchins who stroke their double chins and snap a pastor
On the head because he's been scoring own goals.

Roll fair dice and call for plates of rice
To land with morsels of roasted pork
Eaten with gusto twice or thrice
When in the end it matters little whether a utensil is a spoon or a fork.

Toll the knell that presages the arrival
Unexpectedly of a gangling gladiator who threshes
Chaff and chippings near cherubs with clipped wings when survival
Mode takes over floors with inches of ashes.

Maul the tiger who bares sharp teeth at saints
Who meditate and hesitate to sentence to hell
Bimbos and gigolos who twerk derrieres in events
Meant to splash a kaleidoscope of outrageous spectacles in a jail cell.