All of a Sudden

He’s resurrected!
it’s truly a marigold.
But you know what?
It’s this very kind of
garden-variety entendre
that I’ve been meaning to avoid here,
amongst all the sordid
ne’er-do-well activity
that seems to define our times
all of a sudden.

Wasn’t integrity of character
ever something to strive toward?
Maybe not in this system of
checks [cashed] and balances [slashed].

Though perhaps I’m as guilty
as any other layabout milquetoast out there,
lounging around the house
sipping my pink lemonade martinis
(my live-in mixologist’s proprietary recipe)
and grousing like one of my commoner counterparts.

Milquetoastery

Full, rich dunwoody grey
Eisenhauer beetle nuisance contraptions–
nether regions never unlinked.

Stoneworthy boysenberry preservatives
prattle on for the sole purpose of
gentrifying the least-suspicious ones
of any given group:

those righteous pioneers
of evangelical milquetoastery
who never fail to make straw hats
look more elegant on anybody but them.

Straw hats, beanies, pork pies,
snapbacks–their notion
that any headwear
is better than
no headwear
is a flat-out lie.