CRACKPOT

At the crack of the dawn ,a fair crack of the whip      

begone ,                                                                                        

Gone crabbing ,laden crackwares gone crabwise crackles,

Crack  and crankshaft ,                                    

Like a courtesan , crafty and craggy  ,they covert coys and coxes ,

Like a spindle ,as the city moans , they spanked the city’s square .  

                                                                                                                  .

These thingamajigs on the tiles,the  tigerish tingods , fest upon

The soul of tidings to play their tambourines                            

Tinderboxes galore  galumph upon tinderboxes as

They reticulated                                                  

Plum plenipotentiaries of the ghost -towns , and dark

ages                            

The ploughshares of brigandage and the pathological psycho-cides,                                                              

As aridland spurts  its diadem and frostbitten by infecundity                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

They blurt out aches and blithe  as bludgeon and blitzers of bloodcurdling

Blizzard ;yet they bleat the frankeinstein ‘s at dusk,

The city gropes in the dark as the galls stone-kiss the blarney and dip the

 pen in gall ,

Blind man’s buff  like the rambling and blathering ,blinding escutcheon

burns  greadliy ,

Armageddon not yet arsonised , arm wrestled armoury of asceticism .

See how  arms race held up in arms romped into hog as gregarious flocks muster

Minitions and backchated ballparks,

Greymaterised amputees ran amock the city gales and the bombshell imploded

Nether-lands ,                           

They go ballistics and bad-mouthed badminton plays  on the canvas to the----

glees of ballboys and ballgirls,                      

 As  this dearth balloons its ballerina of bales and  dances to the tambourines.

                                                                

No one ties the bandage around and it was an open sore aching and

 Stenching  everywhere,

They ‘ve gone berserk ,benumbed ,no one rings the bell and  belly-aching, 

 And the belly-laughter of the unrestrained cult  torpedoed ubiquitous –birds-of passage,                                                                      

Behold,the city groans ,evergreen and not deciduous ,swords’damocled by its direst

Fate.                         

Wham!wham!! wham!!!

The city perishes and good Samaritan to cross the  rubicon and pay off old

 scores still shrouded in byzantine,                       

Interred in this grain of salt,the cancer spreads and mestasized ,and the red                                                      

now is hung between the Scylla and Charybdis ,  cancer spreads and kills and the trouble is now between

Rough’n’tumble,roughshod over ride on the precipice      

                                                                                                
  

As the city moochs ,moonies pound too mordant ,moping  and---,

 morphed   mores unmoored Interred in the morgue ,

Still they  commandeer ages in chapters  and verses as

Moodier Birds of passage turn to the cheeks ,               

Lunatic fringes of the golden ages as struck lush on the mare’s nest ,   

Lurkers in their tentacles, ambushing

Whose ilk’s from its pinions , lushes of golden ages had long                                                                                                         

Long long ago been lugged .                                                                                                .