The Promissory Speaker

With his machine and wide mouth to help

And draw the curious crowd within,

He’ll speak with a knife-grinder’s yelp

Of the burdens irritating his skin.

His patched notebook is quickly aloft

He mounts the podium as it skies,

And in laughing words which now waft,

The crowd heeds not the vicious lies.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

In The Garden

Evol

Sometimes They are Mistaken for Dogs