Let’s write a poem! Let’s pretend To fight! The proto-poem’s exiguous vacuums! Let’s put to flight the fatuous and vacuous And ride backwards on our club-footed, Claw-footed horses as if Parthians Shooting love apples with worms of stiff Lightning, with willingly orphaned arrows For every mischievous sprite who thinks She’s wild as a mink but sweet As soda pop! All right, Tricia, Here goes your story: once Anonymous
And an Abenaki poetess went swimming Around supper in the falls and pools outside Jeffersonville, Vermont, where tradition Decrees solemn and total nudity Precedes emersion, plus a bottle of Jameson’s To grease, so to speak, the skids, Which obscured twilight’s mauve onset And worse, the night’s octopus of ink. So instead of finding the mile-long Path back to the village, we crawled On hands and knees, discovering
From glass shards and tin can lids piercing The forest’s pine needle floor a prior Jeffersonville dump, and yet, indeed, at last, At least, we found the car and roared in it, a white, Brand new, open, coffee-can Renault 16, Into the moonless northeast kingdom night, Though before we’d clinched any deals This princess barfed on my back seat, Explaining, between gulps and projectile Demonstrations of her utmost In stomach acids and stewed foods, “Whisky
On an empty stomach.” Balance For justice’s scales was sought The following year thanks to a poetical Miracle and apposite lack of grace In her apartment shower, her mahogany Muff, wet, swelling big enough To balance that bottle whose whisky, This time, we diluted in chocolate milk, Gazing at each other as if proud And amused warriors, the chaotic path To bliss never a respecter of persons.
Dear Goddess of the perpetually deranged, I hope the thought balloons Of your albino dino and his porcelain mare Are impermeable, since a certain Anonymous who thinks he’s Aeolos Showers you with thunderclaps As if such dubious deluge Were altruistic, whereas he simply Should say your operatic orphans Deriding their orphanage are terrific, What Yeats called bitter furies of complexity Who break-dance on the silken, slippery floor Of your marble-less, marvelous art And beget those images which yet Fresh images beget. Shame on Anonymous
For being so monotonously pompous, This Narcissus sipping from the mudpond Of his reflected kisses. Come on, Pretty twot, and hit him on the chin With your best shot! Did you know The feline phallus has flanges Like those on the tail on which your Baby Dino goes riding? Like a car rental Transom guaranteed to destroy tires, Though those are vaginal, but it’s why Mrs. Lioness bites Leo on the ass After he’s performed his service. “This Fucking uxory is no luxury!” he grumbles At the start of a movie, hoping she reaches For the hard-on in his popcorn.
Up to Rumford To check on the rathole-- When I get back I'll see If I can turn the tale Of the Innocent Bride Into poetry. But rather Than make you snore, Tricia, Stop me if you've heard before The story of the boy With two penises, And his sad marriage.
This essay is excellent. really beneficial to me. Kindly go on with your amazing effort, sir. We are always thinking about you and looking forward to your next thought-provoking piece. Raymond Goodwill |THCB Distillate
Aesthetic dermatology is treatment for the skin, hair or body that is meant to enhance the appearance of a patient. It is dermatology that is focused on enhancing looks instead of eradicating disease.
20 comments:
THOUGH NOW THE SOW IS HAIRLESS
Let’s write a poem! Let’s pretend
To fight! The proto-poem’s exiguous vacuums!
Let’s put to flight the fatuous and vacuous
And ride backwards on our club-footed,
Claw-footed horses as if Parthians
Shooting love apples with worms of stiff
Lightning, with willingly orphaned arrows
For every mischievous sprite who thinks
She’s wild as a mink but sweet
As soda pop! All right, Tricia,
Here goes your story: once Anonymous
And an Abenaki poetess went swimming
Around supper in the falls and pools outside
Jeffersonville, Vermont, where tradition
Decrees solemn and total nudity
Precedes emersion, plus a bottle of Jameson’s
To grease, so to speak, the skids,
Which obscured twilight’s mauve onset
And worse, the night’s octopus of ink.
So instead of finding the mile-long
Path back to the village, we crawled
On hands and knees, discovering
From glass shards and tin can lids piercing
The forest’s pine needle floor a prior
Jeffersonville dump, and yet, indeed, at last,
At least, we found the car and roared in it, a white,
Brand new, open, coffee-can Renault 16,
Into the moonless northeast kingdom night,
Though before we’d clinched any deals
This princess barfed on my back seat,
Explaining, between gulps and projectile
Demonstrations of her utmost
In stomach acids and stewed foods, “Whisky
On an empty stomach.” Balance
For justice’s scales was sought
The following year thanks to a poetical
Miracle and apposite lack of grace
In her apartment shower, her mahogany
Muff, wet, swelling big enough
To balance that bottle whose whisky,
This time, we diluted in chocolate milk,
Gazing at each other as if proud
And amused warriors, the chaotic path
To bliss never a respecter of persons.
Yeah, the fur takes a really long time to draw. Also, whiskey and chocolate milk? Is such a thing allowed?
NEWS FOR THE DELICATE ORACLE
Dear Goddess of the perpetually deranged,
I hope the thought balloons
Of your albino dino and his porcelain mare
Are impermeable, since a certain
Anonymous who thinks he’s Aeolos
Showers you with thunderclaps
As if such dubious deluge
Were altruistic, whereas he simply
Should say your operatic orphans
Deriding their orphanage are terrific,
What Yeats called bitter furies of complexity
Who break-dance on the silken, slippery floor
Of your marble-less, marvelous art
And beget those images which yet
Fresh images beget. Shame on Anonymous
For being so monotonously pompous,
This Narcissus sipping from the mudpond
Of his reflected kisses. Come on,
Pretty twot, and hit him on the chin
With your best shot! Did you know
The feline phallus has flanges
Like those on the tail on which your
Baby Dino goes riding? Like a car rental
Transom guaranteed to destroy tires,
Though those are vaginal, but it’s why
Mrs. Lioness bites Leo on the ass
After he’s performed his service. “This
Fucking uxory is no luxury!” he grumbles
At the start of a movie, hoping she reaches
For the hard-on in his popcorn.
You fairly take my breath away with compliments, Anonymous. And P.S.! The cat has nothing on the spiny anteater, which boasts a quadracock.
Up to Rumford
To check on the rathole--
When I get back I'll see
If I can turn the tale
Of the Innocent Bride
Into poetry. But rather
Than make you snore, Tricia,
Stop me if you've heard before
The story of the boy
With two penises,
And his sad marriage.
Good God, I can't say as I have.
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Aesthetic dermatology is treatment for the skin, hair or body that is meant to enhance the appearance of a patient. It is dermatology that is focused on enhancing looks instead of eradicating disease.
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