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In the beginning

of the end, after civilization began to conserve herself,
rather than risk all they had plundered and blundered onto,

the word began to offend his self Irish mouths –
disfigured by cabbage stuffed in by queens, kings, and dons,

began to bloviate and decline to say grace, having grown
troublesome and opinionated as peasants, while lords offshore,

on rock east of Ireland, e’re split like a side of beef at a beggar’s banquet,
busy themselves, rehearsing revivals of The Charge of the Light Brigade.

Honeyboy Andre Meade

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