As an arboreal bonobo, cereal dumbo, and ethereal fondue
oh…and an American of LVIII skittish scuttles salutary hoo
ha slip shod journey round mister sun,
and becomes Crispr than any 23andme and during Jew
if fie venture to close,
thus hastening a rush to water closet to extinguish fire loo
ping all around me – asper resembling a mulberry bush,
moost likely severe burns will into a new
lee reincarnated carbon based life form,
or if lucky aye will buck hum a rolling stone –
as the jagged key cornerstone laid for a sin a gog
or other non denominational church pew,
that bore witness to political ambition of one hog
in daas ice cream addict, and indulged without letup,
thus necessitating being rolled like one bump on a log
so mud dear wanton Downton Abbey dwellers,
I present a synopsis of Jacob William Rees-Mogg
(born 24 May 1969), and evinced a craving for deluxe
top of the line pie ala mode posse sub bull being nursed on egg nog
which left no rum for any contrition,
hence this mollycoddled, pampered
non heir oh gent, ex spoon non chilly unscrupulous Brit did slog
his way as a Conservative Politician of Parliament
for North East Somerset at the 2010 general election
success predicated on his birth in Hammersmith, London
educated at Eton College, he got along swimmingly with pollywog
wharf air he superseded his piers (plow man style),
who many Thames thought himself tubby
the moost salient resplendent cog.
Matthew Scott Harris was born in Cincinnati that fuckeye state
January 13th – unknown+ years to date
a tangle of arms & legs testing lungs, sounded great
in the garden of Eden, he kind of resembled
a misshapen octopus under the sea with an oval pate
glowering inxs deep purple moody blue, and quite irate
thrust out womb of Harriet Harris whom Boyce did date
after courting this youngest Kuritsky whose
(fast forward half a century) met her ill-fate
whisked by grim reaper, which demise she did hate
trademark persona imbued with vim and vinegar til illness ate
je nais sais quois personable maternal trait
evident during my boyhood reflected by this sole son
inches closer to mortality and Hades gate
aware each day ought to be cherished as the topnotch rate
Wanton Fuckery Poetry 