The Truth if a Shifty Bitch

The truth is a shifty bitch
The one who will build you up
The one who will cry your name
And just as soon, your ass ditch

The truth is a crafty witch
She will make the path easy
She will render the path not
She will make poor you feel rich

Beware the cheap seduction
Don’t feel you needn’t cover
Your each and every base
Though she found you paths verdant
It will just as soon deface
And you find you have nothing

The Ethic of Stinge [sic]

Wise men sing, the praise of largess,
As do kind men say, but surely they jest!

I can only save one bloated African,
I durst not save the unattractive one!

In my day, I have only so much time,
Woe would be I, if I just analyzed a dime!

Christ boasts oft about his love for all
But love is a heart cut out of a sheet
Am I the heart, or am I the sheet?

Can I Jesus a thousand women,
when one exhausts my money, and 5, my semen?

For to belong, you see, is to be included,
While the universe of others is excluded

(for I desire not, but a sip of your wine,
Unless I can have a goblet that’s mine)

Nature, too, is a masterful miser,
from great bear to wily spider

No creature takes shape that fills all space,
nor all of time, beyond its own race

Look around, and see:
Much enters, but none leaves the sea
and
The three toes of the sloth,
The dull colour of the moth,
The useless eyes of the mole,
The numbered days of the tail on the tadpole,
The small size of a chigger?
Realize, my friend, that God is a niggard

My Cyclopean, Fire-Breathing, Cider-Swilling Llama Friend

Once upon a time I took groats to my groat-loving llama friend
And often I mistook shadows for my child-saving llama friend
To one such shade I talked and I, by my local school teacher, stalked
“So you took our oats, oaf”, pointed to rotting pile, angrily, quoth
Only a fool could think! my humble offer does the llama eat!
For groats and oats are food fit only for horse and man and meals, crude
No, my llama friend be with or without my sweetened gift of feed

Oh, the days I do miss he’d make a bully crawl, or a girl kiss
It cost only a call to wish, to will, to watch the teacher fall
But one meal was not sweet not cabbage, nor beans, but a loathsome beet
I wished as I might call but none unsweet, not even beets, would fall
Only a fool could think! a llama greets me from the kitchen sink!
For far and forgot be for him as near as cider and glass be
Yes, my llama friend be though nary a place you can hope to see