Poetic Republic

In the city of poets
the philosophers ran

other's joylessness
twerps to the question

of whether there's a guy in the sky
and if he is the Ideal Form of language

poor Euthyphro
piggy in the middle
of the ziggurat

Babel of the manger
Babel of the label
munching on the table
tabling the cloudliner

Usurped Nebuchadnezzar takes aim
at guy word Form
in the sky

hits his foot
blood between toes

swearing he saw
the Ideal Form of language
in the sky

which the poets agreed he did
but work's pleasure continues
in this city
we got it good
even Euthyphro
can work the wood

Nebuchadnezzar sat down
Right was running late
but now it was okay

realizing this in the morning
not the end of the day

Babel will and will not have its way.