Life in a Summary

Seven sailors up in sky
fall from the foreign light.
Maybe the men of morrow
will wear the wisdom of no sorrow.
Perhaps people will pass
the things that they will cast
into a degrading dump of dung.
The ladder's living lime of rungs
shall be when she shares life
among the right and rich and wrong in strife.

Milk of mists mourn in merry miles
of false freaks failing to feel the smiles
from the gorgeous girls in the green room
that seemed to seep of sensual scents and a broom.
Queens query over towns unquestionably quaint.
Damned dogs derived of death and dearth become the saints.
Null needs of the Nile ne'er known of the end so nigh
that simple sights like stars in the silent night sky
are held high in horrid humor, the heaps of holy men
meet with merry maids made of meticulous molds of beautiful women.

Unknown nights of naked dreams needlessly deemed
useless unless unforgiven and unwanted are what seemed
to be buried beneath the bogs of Britain and banished in hoards
killed by one's kin is unkind and not liked by those on boards
that lift and let loose the lead in lights of loran leaped
from formless features for ferries forever furrowed in heaps.
What would one wish to be whisked upon a weary traveler?
Beauty boasts on both parties betrayed by blasphemous voyagers
vying for various votives and voluptuous vixens against vices and
a vichyssoise of verbiage most verbose that veers from victim to villain.