African River Renga

What new leviathan is this,
mouth like a bullhorn,
and hide of rhinoceros?

Cancer, canker, wicked chancre
so much noise,
so much rancor

small of word, small of mind
mean in spirit
beyond unkind

full of ignorance
and righteousness,
what caused this breeding pestilence?

Comes this from a cursing spell
to call from easy peaceful spirits
the good intent to pave o'er hell?

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There's war in heaven:
the gods in vain
struggle against
the stupid reign.

Resist their demands.
Oppose their rule.
Nothing stands
'gainst ridicule.

You can lead a horse to water,
but you cannot make him drink
you can dress a witch in diamonds
but you cannot make her think;

consider you this anagram
sword-like words in readiness
turned for exercise and play
for future chances of redress.

I'll set my song to a sprightly score
and make this still more musical
play the Bard, and smooth the time
and make some honey of this gall.

I sing alone, the better part,
I need no audience, in truth;
it's a waste of time to orchestrate
what needs no further proof.