Song of Supposition

How come I no longer carry a pen?
And where has the rum gone?
The internet is for politics & perverts,
So long as you come alone,
A song from the wino at lamplight again.

Watch me, purple princess flower, smoke only camels,
My corner pub's suzerainity,
Imagine a future without underpants,
Listen to the remaining accordion magic,
Can we continue with limited precepts to live in these cold dark shells?

How come I came to this ancient city?
It still has stretch-marks on its breasts,
Handsome young beasts & the kind starshine of ages
Will guide you outward, bounty increases
When charity is replaced by necessity & Charles has no need for pity.

I love a sporting life, & where better to have it?
I need affirmation, a lonesome eagle,
How quick you forget our adoration & our hot tub games,
Our connectivity, you living son of a seagull,
I love a sporting life - want it & grab it.

How come I sense desperation behind your prose?
And don't look for it in the rum cellar.
Keep repeating yourself on the internet,
& I will pay attention to you,
Credentials from the Institute of Pumpkin Yellow,
It's literary fraud, but the noblest kind I suppose.