the ballad of q j

o, dour earth
how shall ye spill thou poison pen?
will thy drip thon lyrical ink?
or stain the nylon knee high of a floozy in the street?

will you shant or shall
sit in pyramid and quote yr vowels?
will ye crack a knuckle?
or resent being rhetorical?

dash these questions that eddie and swirl
can we emit the questions?
(forgive me father for i have sinned)
again... again... again

for i have asked yet another question

and despite your wealth
and mirth and health and quotes

you are a sad infertile man
who looks into the distance of photographs
of a family holiday on a secluded beach

and sees lines in the sand