Sunday, September 29, 2013

Jonathan Swift

Dean of odd ducks, he dipped his pen
In a funny ink, distilled from the Furies
Holy manure: he hated man
Bespattered with shit, shouting, "Yahoo!"

Famished as Death, he fed the lord
A suckling child, the choicest meat
Butchered on his block. The King of Beasts,
Society, laughed and licked its chops.

Harelip in hand, Irony hoped
He fancied her figure. Her fractured face
Broke in two smiles. Smitten with love,
He kissed her palm, "Let's kill the light."

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