Last Order

Too late for this plate
the last order of the day,
perhaps too much to handle.
Large eyes glared, surprised
at what was wrought
right from the start.
This art a weapon -- to nicely
dice those unwilling to learn:
ignorance is never bliss.

Whine your best lest
truth prevail as failed verse
is rehearsed and read
then spread to all, falling
to enrich the soil
in such fragrant words.
We know the smell
hell, we’ve been here
just too kind to mention.

Count the points, adore
the score and disappear
for fear you might write
one rhyme too much.
It’s such a waste, to taste
nothing from the plate,
sated with empty lines and
hollow words. Swallow fast
this last order of the day.