deepundergroundpoetry.com
The false pretenses campaign
Natural men, in their awkward majesty,
descend to the lushly absurd fields of paradise,
where the spectral line of sports begins.
A peculiar ballet of limbs,
an odd assortment of sinew,
unfolds like a grotesque tapestry.
Under the surreal sun, their bodies,
partially symbiotic, partially independent,
contort and stretch in clumsy elegance.
The air thick with the irony of sweat and flowers,
a collision of the primal and the sublime.
Grunts echo like misplaced sonnets,
as they engage in the bizarre rituals
of competitive absurdity.
Every jump, every throw, an idiosyncratic gesture,
a tribute to the awkward beauty of existence.
Paradise, a haven of the perfectly imperfect,
witnesses this disjointed choreography.
The audience, a blur of indifferent spirits,
observes in bemused silence,
the incongruous spectacle,
as natural men play their endless,
bewildering games.
descend to the lushly absurd fields of paradise,
where the spectral line of sports begins.
A peculiar ballet of limbs,
an odd assortment of sinew,
unfolds like a grotesque tapestry.
Under the surreal sun, their bodies,
partially symbiotic, partially independent,
contort and stretch in clumsy elegance.
The air thick with the irony of sweat and flowers,
a collision of the primal and the sublime.
Grunts echo like misplaced sonnets,
as they engage in the bizarre rituals
of competitive absurdity.
Every jump, every throw, an idiosyncratic gesture,
a tribute to the awkward beauty of existence.
Paradise, a haven of the perfectly imperfect,
witnesses this disjointed choreography.
The audience, a blur of indifferent spirits,
observes in bemused silence,
the incongruous spectacle,
as natural men play their endless,
bewildering games.
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