Fortunally, the bar’s not set very high
So that all the underachievers may
Hold themselves in an esteem that
They deserve simply by virtue of their
Low Orb and Sceptre
— The Shot and The Beer
There, from their swiveled Throne,
They may decree all manner of Regal
Inanities, dispensing magnanimous
Gifts of Wit and Wisdom upon the realm.
Here there are Royalty upon Royalty,
Each and every one a Sovereign.
Holding forth beneath an empty Crown,
They need no fool to ease their cares,
For the Joker remains ever with them.
In futile fiat they Will what in no wise
Will Be Done, for the Errant arrancy upon
Which they send forth their half-witted
Knights in hapless Crusade falls on
Deafened ears, the tin-zen sound of
A Tear with a Beer Back that
Around these parts is commonly called
A Sot Pot Boiler Maker.
poetastrophy 