Imitation meals are lined up here
Chicken pie, half roast potatoes, peas.
Beside the bottles of dark, Irish beer.
In the long lit cabinets, it’s clear;
The top layers know that eating’s a disease.
Divination,seers, are laid back here
Once men hunted flowers and chased false tears
While women washed, reaped wool and smiled to tease,
Frowning people maimed black bitter here.
Grinning apes hang from our unshed tears
As asthmatics lust to have their wheeze
Imitation meals are lined up, are they fare?
Spiders, tadpoles, newts are christened here
They will ignore the nobles who must seize
And drown inside the bottles of black beer.
Women labor and downplay their creed;
Even as their uteruses bleed
Irritating meals are labeled weird
Trumpelstiltskin, who shall us now lead?
Who will halt the damage and secede?
Imitation, real, is lined up near.
We hear the chortles of dark, Irish beer.
