Matins

[Leanne]

Filius flashes, eleison crashes
and Jericho smashes again
Titular washes, old men in galoshes
are pishing and toshing til ten
 
Madrigal masses move on through molasses
while half-witted lasses shake tins
Stoned under mosses, thirteen gilded josses
count all of our losses as wins
 
singing
 
kyrie, kyrie, Kylie's sainted arse
a Sufi speculates:
this too shall pass

[just mercedes]

I think you dream in poetry. This is pretty weird - a Sufi at High Mass? Reading this is like being caught up by a runaway train!

[Lizzie]

And I am the half-witted lass in this scenario? 

[Leanne]

And I am the half-witted lass in this scenario? 

If you want to be