We have dishonored logic

The prophet is getting tired of standing in the rain.
His underpants are wet and he wants to go home.

She begs him to deliver his utterance,
But is about to be disappointed.
There are no ears ready to hear,
Even her cute ones.
We have dishonored logic.

Translucent raindrops have been sent by our sponsor,
But you accept the offer of a demon to escort you to hell.
Maybe there was a reason for you to be born after all,
As they tell me even hell has a servant problem.
Deception has desecrated the temple of reason.

Cleaning ladies, invisible creatures of the night,
Cunning vixens with superhuman powers,
Are always grinning in your absence.
They practice smiling in the mirror,
Dusting away your daily sin,
Cleansing your designated space.
They are fond of quoting ancient proverbs,
That no one ever hears.
But as dawn approaches,
They retreat to the toxic waste dump the other side of town.
Surely we have defiled reason.

Youthful street artists,
Full of meaningless plans,
Call for more wine.
Just make sure the anesthetic doesn’t wear off,
They just might see the Truth,
And become radical and dangerous.
We have violated common sense.

During a sunset,
You might see someone chasing a gnome,
If you squint through just one eye.
After all, deception is a tricky business,
As certain as we have dishonored logic.

Hardly Gnome © 2004 who is Hardly Himself —– ever