Ruth Buzzy

Oh yess, Unkless Alberth, your
head is like a funny keyhole, and
maybe I should've listened in school,
but instead was already drawing
staircases of starfish, fountains of
eternal youth in Florida.

O Conquistador! Your painted red armor
is like the skinless victims whose screams
in the mid-day sun are sweet as praise-song
at the feet, of a blood-thirsty and tyrannical


garden.

Forgive me, Unkless Alberth, but your
funny keyhole head, is much harder than
my bed,

this divan
this sofa
so far
a fabulous
freakish
cheerkirchen
of geargerkins.

Florida is buzzy,
Ruth labored
and Oil bubbled.

Dry goods.
Dry goods.

O Conquistador! you
romantic giant of gold,
you hobo on the road,
you poet of lodestone ruins,
you glabrous defect donkey
twitching some arborous code-fabble.

Let me lick your face,
for this monster knows his place,
if only you could hear
my super scary, romantic
Frankenstein
Monstermash
voice..