Saturday, January 10, 2009

OCTIS SORP TEK

"Throw up the black thing, warap it, and give it to Tobias. He will know hat to drew.."
-F



Saint George
take this syringe
take this posh room
at the Syringa lodge

Let's lance amoebas
and see presence fall out
at the bottom of the baum.

The mob of words says dragon
to a mote, the Innkeeper
is Tobias, whose hands drool
their own fingers in shades
whose keys are the weaving
of fish-tailed ribbons through
twisting ladders hung with
honey bladders, each piped
to a mead-bearing minstrel sea
called encyclopede.

The single best room
is also a trick room, a
cabinet whose intricate
spelled linings are legendary,
the walls are pocket books,
book niche totems, trundle pets,
and scabbards..

How word is so swordly?
How bard so scabby?

Skin is rough, Saint George?
Insert needle in gumb!
Insert dragon in bumb!

The Amoeba knight cometh,
deploying its telescopic crustacean
beatitudes!

All this religion!

PROTOCTISTAN PROSTHETICS
says ORD MIS PLOG UND PLAYA

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.