“Frying Pan Of Gold”

Tax And Duck

Cut The Foul-Mouth Rug

From The Sinking Bug.

Creative Destruction Land Of Dysfunction.

Anything Goes When Laws Explode.

Wankers Agree

Flakes On The Bench

Dig A Deep Kiss-Ass Trench.

Lots Of Fears

In Home-Made Weird.

Never Too Soon When Anger Blooms ─

And Violence Grooms With Tell-Tale Prunes─

Soaked In Gloom.

Right─

Those Hand-Made Brooms

And Silver Spoons,

In Rank Streets Under Dirty Sheets

Eat─ Then Blink.

Freedom Has A Funny Stink.

In Any Kitchen Sink.

Best Be Bold

In A

Frying Pan Of Gold.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net