Not So Poem by Harvey Horst

The pedophial pedeatrion
Browses his waiting room
While the vegan butcher
Is in a tiresome mood.

The amputee Olympian
Cries herself a puddle
As the morose mother's babies
Get taught to be humble.

And they all talk about it
Sitting on the same, one side
Of the dinner table.

The blind watchmen
Complains about the food
Yet the sex offending gynecologist
Never explains what he's going through.

The living are gossiping
All about the dead
And the cannibal mortician
Is said to be feeding on the head

Of your ex mother in law
And you think to yourself,
'Something strange is going on.'
But it's not so.