Faux Pas

James Fridman

On the vine of truth I swung too long too late
for my opinion to hold its place & weight
a slip of the tongue pulled off my mask of civility
exposing the truth behind my social duplicity

Knees buckled over my long limbed pussyfoot
your narrow view of me is now caput

Now you know I price your opinion less than cheap
I think of you less than counting sheep

before I go to sleep

Wanna lace a working artist’s palm? Just clap.
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