Objects

Whirligig Gazebo,
Hanging owls to scare the customers
Away, pacifier in the parking lot!
And wouldn’t you know it,
Cascading hands battered the pianist off his bench,
And exorcized the audience of their intense eye-ache…
(Cough) to start the requiem…Oh!
Strangle those jangling keys, you nitwit

Poetry doesn’t make life easier
Just bearable, like the sun within the clouds contained
Night, could you tell them to give me something working purple
Or maybe a hot pink rose cries out,
“No smoking ashtray’s gunna tell me what to do”
God, how can morning be so dark
Hear the birds chirp?
Who left this Harpsichord in the street?
Well I’m not touching it
So foul, it’s licorice:

A crow flew into my face today…Conch!
It didn’t hurt or at least I wouldn’t cry
Out-out Papier-mâchéte
The web spins a spider and I cut it down
Skittles, taste the bowling ball
With a soul as black as snow,
A bantam as winged as phantom,
Or a newfangled fogrum

Here, try some long lasting sugar free words  
None of that spur of the moment sweet talk
Maybe all my life I’ve been waiting for an ingenuous ingénue      
She’d col’caulk the gun to seal the cracks in my coffin after a bang up job
For this is the winter of our discontent
Wipe that grease-trap smile off your face!