09 December 2014

Homily’s Precedent


When all else fails you can whinge about the 
weather they say - like it’s a copout or safety 
valve strategically placed where the inept or 
conversational tragics lurk, clumsily seeking 
an entrée; bit like a vegetarian at a pit roast, 
dubious I sense about the degree of sear, a 
mulish attempt inferencing which unseemly 
ambit will work best without being damned 

So what can we talk about and which topics 
are banned from this august group’s tenure 
on the present tense; where’s our host and 
his fork, or am I intruding indecorously onto 
space where only silently acquiescent male 
carnivores prevail by a homily’s precedent 

© 24 November 2014, I. D. Carswell 

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