The Phony Express Poem by Bill Cantrell

The Inanimate beckons our senses
enveloping subconscious wants
Colors intoxicating our eyes
Gold fish eat to their glutinous death
ten thousand candles on a muffin
Each one differs with sparkling wicks
Each one's light is a choice word
The phony express,
you pay fro a ride to nowhere
The colors laugh,
"you fools"
A sickening sweetness,
Causes an overdose
They throw darts at a choice dictionary
Where it lands, it then launches another after another
In a basket they put the gaudy elite words,
then toss them on the page

The azure ocean
Embraces opium heavens
Psychedelic sunsets,
Obsidian octaves caress them
Rainbows fighting for a bed
Pompous Nightingales never give it a rest

Such is a poem so overdressed