The Sophist

2014-08-05 12:00 am

My Nicomachean ethics dictate every day,
Every day I sleep until I'm late,
I place blame on my friends and family,
Regarding problems I create,
Leading all our lives astray,
I pay friends to rape my fiance,
Go to church, kneel down, and pray.
I waste my life away,
Raise my kids like JonBenet,
Rotten melons in Easter hay,
So well my part I play,
Shadows fades, the suns awake.
Used socks left a-hang,
Stinking up the atrium of the Global Chalet.

Gord

2014-08-05 12:00 am

I'm sorry,
She called me,
amateur poet,
Who is she?
To question the merit,
of an artist?
I mean,
Is she marxist?
Does she study philosophy?
I mean, 
It seems like her carpet,
Would be stained cheese.
I mean,
Where was her fedora?
The Woman should insulted be,
Why? Equality.

Gord

2014-08-05 12:00 am

Complacency, 
A transformative lyric.
Appear differently,
Every time you see it.
Feel questions,
Appearance less glee,
It just gets to me,
Questions my career:
Rhyming a chair,
with chairs a little less green.