To Substack's Poetesses

Vulgerly "Slutstack."

Your work is boring,
It leaves me snoring,
As does your face.

No sense for rhyming,
Pattern or timing,
And nary a trace

Of anything under,
The coral and umber
That gaud your lips.

Dismiss pretention,
You want attention,
From fingertips.

You are a child,
That has run wild,
Chasing the stars.

Now night is fading,
The daylight shading,
Venus and Mars.

But off and homing,
You find the foaming
Of bitter sea.

Where bed and table,
Father and stable,
Once used to be.

For every scallop,
There is a trollop,
That's worn away.

If you've no halter,
Or vows at altar,
That's you someday.

If you won't waken,
A new road taken,
That's you today.

---

Male and female, God created them. He to lead and labor, she to aid and inspire. Turn from your dusty path and walk the rosey way. Also,