Many words can make a mess
For meaning neither more nor less,
But some arrangements stick around
Because the brain remembers sound.
So if I had to make a choice
Between the letter and the voice
I'd choose to sing a nonsense song
Instead of meaning something wrong;
For in my little slice of life
I've witnessed mostly stupid strife
Perpetuated by the frauds
Who claim they speak for unseen gawds.
And I have learned to discount words
As mostly smelly little turds
Whose meaning no one seems to know
Except that from them corpses grow,
Attracting hordes of thirsty flies
Who drink their fill from crying eyes
While "meaning" pours from moving lips
And falsehood-scribbling finger tips.
So, yes, I've heard both long and short,
And read much, too, of either sort.
But still, when words have had their say
It takes a tune to make them stay.
Michael Murry, "The Misfortune Teller," Copyright © 2010