They called him colourful <br />for various, salient reasons. <br />A renegade by birth, <br />a master of all seasons. <br /> <br />His trademark: Purple socks <br />and boxer shorts with stripes, <br />he was unorthodox, <br />a man of many gripes. <br /> <br />Some said he was against <br />all facets of convention <br />though he became incensed <br />and flaunted his intention <br />out in the Public Square. <br /> <br />A soapbox was his pulpit <br />he told them what was fair <br />but few would ever gulp it. <br />He knocked official thinking, <br /> <br />it was, he said, well-known <br />that when the ship is sinking <br />the sails get overblown. <br />He won the Golden Lotto <br /> <br />and millions made him rich. <br />Together with mate Otto <br />and Otto's girl named 'Bitch' <br />they fired all the captains <br /> <br />and bueraucrats as well <br />and waited for acceptance <br />though only time will tell. <br />He ordered all the schools <br /> <br />to dump their faulty teaching <br />and locked up all those fools <br />who didn't like his preaching. <br /> <br />His name was Don Mafioso <br />he hailed from Sicily <br />a bigger, badder bozo <br />was not from Italy.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-my-attic-v/
