Adventures in the Anticlimactic
Gone the newest testimony
to a holy matrimony,
not a single ruby slipper
making eyes at Little Dipper.
Spiders are the bigger tippers,
than the mites and chains of litter.
Cracks of windows smile, chipper,
for the painted, rusted stripper,
waiting on her alimony,
paid in full…in full bologna.
Foolish men are by the buckle
for the widow, honeysuckle,
ever sweeter than her mirror
images of Ursa Major.
Astrologic in a stupor,
writing of her randy liquor,
pointing fingers, what a trooper,
with an unknown sense of humour.
Classy acting, worth a chuckle,
worth another iron knuckle.