Obedience

Obedience whims me forth

and back. Slack won't dew drop 

inn. Won't do. Won't

do wop flophouse blues, 

a muse foreign to drought I mean

draught not dry to the mouth.

Hear me obey mechanically 

the way I have been taught. 

Little bureaucrats like families will do

whatever to preserve their clutches 

of their systems, and its parts

that honor and obey to stay within

those nasty bounds that keep out

by playing keep-away to roust out

undesirables including both would-be 

geniuses and those who've lost 

their marbles who seed something

more remarkable including something kinder

and more Chapstick chaste even in haste 

to preclude the bad mood around this glut of grout.