Market analytics suggest the threat of an inwardly burgeoning malignancy.
Desperation detectable due to an under-celebrated revolution affecting mechanical insights.

Cassock-clad Cossack took a lead pipe up his coccyx.
The feral were soon acquitted in a fit of flippant bluster.

Suitably some were made to parade their hides then worn, so torn, and yes, filth-ridden.
E’ver do wells in their finery shunned us visibly, audibly with the dribble all down their shirt-fronts a-spill.

Street peddler made his notes on a dim snap’s reverse.
The neighbour meditating, dispensed fresh advices, for which to freshen his pure pal’s poem.

———————————————————————————————————

High Talk

Don’t let him lock the lamps on ye
For he’ll offer you a seafood dinner
Which in his coarse tongue
Comes to mean something mean and lurid

That is, in the scoundrel’s unfit manner
An everyday commonplace
Of speech and meaning,
Would wound the tenderer hearts
Of those that liken their lot,
Reasoned bluntly, with tawdry speculations

And so he went in for to say his poetry
Which was admissible
In-as far as the quaint turn
He could approach with savage execution

His nature fuelled seemingly
Rare bursts of expression
That bore fierce scrutiny
Leading the one to question, and rethink

Idle-headed men again
Were given cause for repose
Afore the local news and such
Granted them their turn

———————————————————

If it’s an ordeal you’re after, well you’ve come to the right place. See you’ve to type in these words and stories and things like that, or I don’t know, maybe you’re doing visual stuff. Anyway, just you work away there, the rest of it should just roll out in front of you, like a big insect-strewn carpet. Keep it up, the whole ordeal bit is more like a recurring series of personal disasters. I suppose maybe that’s where you get the ideas.