a bit late as the initial thread is lost in cyberspace
administration
What is it now? The arched eyebrows
move in tandem with the flaws
and the glasses the open frog-leg strut*
of temples gone long before
mock the introduction which I read
to those all assembled, and now
quickly I go through my delivery
of the classic Freudian slip
and upon her look my very being trips.
identity card personality pressed like
Victorian flowers for all of those hours
the blush on your face painted by her
taunt KNOW THY PLACE with others
she might kow-tow but in your presence
she simply doesn't know how and in the
absence of civility she practices
the dark art of incivility by dropping
a please she can like the vixon mark
her territory with a scent that tells all
in the room, she's in charge of this low-life
this miscreant. this drip of humanity.
*found in Buddhist temples
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