a fools moon arising

Jesters begin

A conga line... 

Then stage 

A mass demonstration

For,

Then against,

Stupidity

As they play charades, 

Play peek-a-boo 

With rumors,

and speculations 

rampantly exploited 

 

astonish and amaze 

With speculations and alibis 

Erotically portrayed...

 

Magicians trying to create

The most profound illusions 

 

But have only tricked themselves, 

Making faux faces, rolling their eyes

in unison...

 

Causing further confusion 

 

While 

Spouting in a chorus

Of endless outrageous lies,

 

 

Making falsetto declarations

As if to a sweetheart 

In...

 

Trying to convince them

They are true to only them 

While batting their eyes...

To everyone...

Appologizing profusely

 

Such absurdities,

As a contest 

Of who can tell the biggest lie

This serenade between fools

Trying to outdo one another

Playing imaginary instruments

Like a band

Of bickering brothers

Wildly prancing mimes

Who believe they are really

Singing to each other

Led by the circus clowns with

Little dogs towing little trailers

Marked with seven stars

And a broken moon

Happy, just as if

…it was a magnificent

Symphony  

Because they were

So badly out of tune

As they wildly

Converge upon the scene

To judge this non-talent show

Playing right into

The discordant melee

Of the broken tunes

 

It’s almost the comparison

Like Beethoven fifth symphony

With roving bands

Of wild dogs

Barking

At the moon

 

C2