You write late at night
sometimes resembles prose
then post it on this site
those odd, ethereal tomes
Your stuff sure stands up hairs
atop of some folks domes
They get cross; 'cause they can't divine
just what she is saying
You're writing a parody

Some reader's lurch
as your words creep down the barren halls
They stumble, vaguely curse
in the Corridors behind the walls
Entangled; they still don't know
They're beguiled; they are in your Sway
Fall Down during Air trips
Shadowed by crowded clouds; in a trance - they gaze

You're inscrutable
they allege you harm them
they squawk earfuls
then bray out false alarms

Still you're lurking
gilding what they can't see
Showing thoughts once deep within
Deftly weaving
Glimpses of dim-lit scenes
Muted blues glow so eerily

You provoke screaming; it's loud
astride strife-fraught other-ly signs
Unfettered by jeers
of those with deaf ears, so
Build us an anthem
From the glow sparked within
Muster some seeds blown
in the breeze and the wind

Ineludible
extruding the crux out thin
inventing future lines
phrases waxed and shined

Was your wording
really such a mystery
The scoldings; odd - the whole thing - thin
Yeah, some turkeys
they will whine incessantly
as we yawn so - wearily

(Instrumental break)

Do those quirky
opaque parodies
That rope us all; then rope us in
Slightly murky
meanings; shaped by how we read
amusing to those who dare to dream

Need not worry
Writing is skilled, we see
It holds up fine, quite sublime
Tell those turkeys
"Chill out, don't you mess with me"
then goose them all so - merrily

They should skip your parodies