Communique
Communique
Tsars, tsarinas, gigolos and gigolettes,
kings and queens of earth
and all good partakers
of the holy lubricant
hearken...
An attempt was made
to oil machinery with blood
but no adequate substitute
was found. Human fluids
animal sap, tree residue
proved insufficient personae
for the drippings of a king.
Therefore the quo
shall remain status.
Ah, well
the good gentlefolk say...
I'd give anything to ride
smooth streets of flattened glass
polished as a stone -
a buffer state of flesh pressed
into monstrous cracks
if the blood
were not my own
I have to tell ya, before I read a single bit more the word "Gigolettes" is absolutely earth-shatteringly cool.

Like the hippies who bang on about saving the trees while using tonnes of paper to roll their smokes (which also contribute plenty to greenhouse gases, along with their lentil farts), the holier-than-thou is a layer of gilt (guilt) smugness which scratches off the moment one suggests actually WORKING for a solution. Someone else's job, man.
Everyone's gentlefolk these days. Give me more trouble, so I can complain louder.
Is it that late? I thought this was an attempt to engage us in the issue of subsidised IV treatment for undeleted cross-dressing phylaphobes...