LARA AT ST.BLUES PART 3

LARA'S AT ST.BLUES.A POETIC DIALOGUE FROM THE ANTHOLOGIES OF ST.BLUES QUEER STREET. PART 3.Oh what sacred plough in her poohpooh, for still in her pooh pooh, ploughs a lonely furrows . Never did herself a red herring, drawn across the rail, ev me ince her red flag shot.She was engrossed for a pound,from being in for a penny until the days of reckoning. They behold that Rome was not built in a day, what pyrhic victory, beckons she; for history barely cast pearls, before nebulous swines.See, how history exhume the escutcheon's blot, in a turtle of dual deconium.And so the dead horse was flogged to death.                       

Enter the labourforce and exasperated. Clara and Adeoti.                                                                               Clara:Oh we are the sport of stigma, another fortune's tool.                                                                            Adeoti:What vile beginners of fray are we? Did I hear it right that capitalist is a gorgeous maiden, still in her early thirties.                                                                                      

Clara:what piercing steel for us, of a colleen in our age bracket?                                                                    Adeoti:Had we not sojourn offshore brothel, that we be not mewed in this haunting heaviness, from which bliss,we could still have reveled.Let it flee.