affection

You play me up, so I'll enter the fray, blazing

away with my six shooter in all manner

of planned provocative outrage - flouting rules

to fuel anarchy, that all may flounder in confusion.

Using the usual alcoholic aids

to trade discomfort for exhilaration, I'll bandy

the grand insults with any prickling heckler,

sticking his obnoxious proboscis in my pissing business.

I bristle at these pompous parties, where hearty fools

from our ruling class romp in accordance with greatly

outdated codes for social etiquette -

set down on graven tablets from the Mountain.

I find their hostesses too hard to please,

so who should care if invitations cease?