~
yonder the critics
blowing soapy bubbles
from their plastic pipes
in moth-eaten sweaters
fresh from their cellars
pot noodle noodles
stuck in their beards
& the men are just as bad
them of huffing broadsides
necking cans of tizer
snorting lemon sherbet
up their horsey nostrils
snarling like a snark
scowling under cloudbursts
unversed in oddness
but toddling on
…
