Matterings*
Stew too bare?
Boo hoo leery!
Whom to wear?
I tip cars grooving, many hounds run and pout.
See birds more lauded cut my salve, um, the louts!
“Mathew be a guy.” At last it has been said.
Sue took a pee. The mastiffs scour, bend to laze.
Hitchhiker’s stealing cats? Depends. Under age?
Kento be lies. Do men sow what they bleed?
Butter curds, more! Minoan isn’t many. Four?
Gunther heard more. The dom he, no gun, glistens.
Hot mustard for Ben (moan!) pissing (whizz!)
To muse walking that mall.
Blue shoes, no stockings that all.
*to the tune of “Words” by Missing Persons
