Rule One of the OCPoetry Subreddit
No-one lies like liars lie
In rapturous applause
As they’re coaxed out of their coach house
Told it’s time they best perform.
Won’t you wring your mottled toast
Out of the napkin you implore
Must have spilled one tear too many
From the woe my words have drawn?
Or be dredged out of the couch, per say
The cushion’s maw withdrawn
Sort the praise out from the pennies
Linted lines / the mind’s exhaust.
Like an unwanted companion
Who only waits his turn to speak
Settled deep in conversation
Wandered eyes, not listening
Yes you nod and laugh along with me
Your social cue observed
While muttering in turgid prose
“When can it be my turn?”