your obligation to the seventh human.
collects stench cahoots
near the cloning Lucy days.
Regrets shine louder
than piquant ire.
Oh! My lady expose –
am I your new sex animal?
Surprise me then & torture some.
What if reason snarls
at our encrypted apes?
does the split chorale from?
Oasis sperm scents between her leg putty.
botched out XYZ…
Bathos encodes it,
the gorilla barbershop universe
hates commas & glutton leer.
The conundrum of this poem –
is whether I’m a debonair chameleon
or, a henbane, sugar plum miasma.
Copyright © 2017 Charlie Zero the Poet
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No part of Obligations Bring Forth the Seventh Human – may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Charlie Zero the Poet and his poetry works with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.