Brother, Brother and Brother
Brethren, please stand for

the chop.

The name of the rose was
Love
and a whole lot of shaking, shushing and STFUing
going on.

And who is to say you have no apetite for distraction,
and do not we

all
 

at some time wish to be herb to

mortar and pestle
to the mixmaster blender
for an easy pesto, ay?

Black and Gold label pasta, staple of champions
until wiser economic decisions are made

monagamy being one amongst many
polyamory for the native orphans
E pleurisy unum
Eat the meal brethren, don't breathe it in whatever you do

Breatharianism, is the ambrosia made of
the Ichor of the Rose, if you are hungry,
brother, brother, brother and brethren
then kill abstraction, 
Spit at the ceiling of the Sistine chapel,
Your audience is waiting... 

Eat brother, brother, brother
brethren, graze on pesto freshly chopped
and ground
destroyed to powder, the walnut and cream cheese

and a bit of something special.

You shall wear black in the festival food fair
the best biker shorts that tatoos can buy

Slash the basil, Tony. Let's kick some Milwaukee ass.