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It's a beat as rhythm calls
for fractured verse and pickled rhyme
from quasi-poets in demiglace
to feed a hungry illiterate.
So set the table to feed them all
as they line the aisle, fill the room
all hand to mouth, this doggerel
to sate their pangs before they go
into the patter of iambic feet
to echo like a distant pain
the cadence call of sickly sweet,
a goose-step walk on rusted trail.
Pity the drivel as tears are shed
and hearts mired in shallow bowls,
imagine if they'd only been fed
something more than this empty plate.
doggeral, please!I was told about you, you rock! This isn't bad poetry either, Some of it damn good-
Pity the drivel as tears are shed
and hearts mired in shallow bowls,
Correcting myself - superlative.
I wonder how many people will get your point. The imagery is great; I especially like "and hearts mired in a shallow bowl." Really careul, effective mix of theme with metaphors for famine. Thanks for the read. :)