Luv, skwared

Luv, skwared not skewered;

Luv, brawt not bawt;

Luv, sawt not hert;

Luv, ingreined not asheimed.

As society which aspires

To civilisation of why –

Civilisation which aspires 

To true society of lie –

If luv is not part of 

The things we plan to do,

Then Plan A is poorly wrote

And Plan B will be a trope

Of repetitive drivel,

Driven past

The ruined and racked 

Old lungs, grimy of the last.

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