Feign a vein, get famous for that
A wooden lip, a loitering soul
Puppeteer of living Pinocchio

Trust your gut but don’t always listen
To rotting notions and intonations
Trivets on loan; a three-legged rental

And lure your liver to store the liquor!
Straight from naught it kills you quicker
Violins rest; a river will stutter

Are lips in sync? You question the river
Fist and rod, glove and louver
Leg of rope, some spit and drivel

[The words that came from ‘ventriloquist’ guided this poem]


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