We live on the placid island of ignorance ( H.P. Lovecraft)
Floating on the ocean bordering the flat earth
Where you can sense the idiots thinking they were captured by aliens
Their shifty eyes can’t look at you directly
Their touch is a weighted one , you can’t get rid of them
They pretend all food taste funny even poisoned
They smell each mouthful first
Telling you the colour of your name
When they first heard it “ Martin Versailles”
Of course they cannot detect poison by smell only
Although the aroma of bitter almond can be the sign of cyanide
These bogans are adept at the Aussie salute
To attract March flies
They tell you to pull your socks up when you’re not wearing any
The grand idiot of the island of ignorance bald as a turtle
Froze his toes to black cinders
Walking to the top of the glacier to check if the earth was flat
Blasting the flea he loved to death,
Hers of course preferably in the near future
Delicately squashed by his two thumbs
For his love will endure beyond the tomb
Après tout la mort, c’est la vie
Kept singing and clapping the upset clock
Upon the floating island of ignorance .
Lucette C. Bailliet
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