Should have gone to law school, but I couldn’t afford the intuition

Illusions
Confusions
False thoughts of self-grandeur
Handshakes and pancakes
And breakfast, false candour
A whole social structure that won’t understand your
Need for a kind eye to read the next stanza.

I erase jotted scratching’s with my rubber sander
The words breed in your mind like a limp dick old Panda.

Shooting literary blanks between publisher thighs
You watch on with amusement and curious eyes
Wondering ‘is this it?’
Yes you’ve seen the demise
Of a man chose words
Over suits and silk ties.