Serp—with this sound, cultured folk
Serp up their artisanal tea.
Dresses hug breasts like a cloak,
Piano sighs randomly.
The celebrant laughs, greeting guests,
News buzzes like a swine’s snort...
All’s drowned by tea serping zest,
And invited guests’ bubbly retort.
Guests, tea-filled up to their gills,
Debate life’s meaning with zeal.
Thus elites throw their party thrills—
The cream of society’s wheel.
