BROTHERS AT ARMS LENGTH.

They were like chalk and chalk,
And there wasn’t a big enough
Blackboard to hold them,
Or school yard beholden,
Or playground war zone;
Understandable really
When no pace was a match
For their pissing contest.

They were two sides of a bad penny,
Two headed for any who tossed
It and hoped for an outcome,
Whose tale had been fazed
By too much hand wringing,
And replaced with head nodding,
Though in case of a type the odds
Were restricted to women.

They were two lovers of losers,
And oblivious of others
Who bothered with movers,
And whose mother was
Either a whore or deceiver,
Incapable of telling her left
From her right, even spat on
Or bobbed in a river.

They were two of a kind that did
Not have a kind to belong to
Or sign to bear under such
Unruly children as these,
And they rode the same horse,
Like kinsmen, of course, but
Did not have the sense to
Disguise it like pantomimes do.