Dear Praying Goddess,
We,
The Practical
And practically useless,
Can only laugh
Uneasily
And salute you
The game is over
Sweet statuesque friend
And in our simple, single minded way
We’ve lost our heads again
The boys and I nod
Our naked, flowing necks,
In unison
To the gruesome poetry
Of your sensible carnage
Squirming on stools
To the curiously seductive rhythm
Of your close mic’d chewing
On our empty thoughts
Green Goddess of Everlasting Love!
We boys of the bar salute you!
Oprah and her housewife lovers
Can only dream of such big eyed wisdom
For you see us
As you call us
Your gaze completes us
And your definition meets us
More than halfway.
And we toast you aggressively
From safe within our beer commercial
Knowing full well
You got our number
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