PRAPE TEEM NEEPLEK

I go home.
My tusks are brown.

Zelda,
with her small,
lethal handbag.

We enter
a spherical room
hung with mutant cactus.

Closely relating
to spies, we
are deliverers
of ancient, journeying,
pencils.

These old,
sentient pencils
are precious ivory
inlaid with turquoise,
red jade, enphantugo.

These pencils
blink, but live hidden
in our concatenation
of maiden's pocket.

DEGHUK MIKUGU
MESHIK FUT GUDBIZ
DUSP POSM FUSKEY
RUGMUK CHOW

Our long ponies
enter halls of snaky
staircases.

Our prehensile hair yoga
is cactus juggling
the mind between pencil
cilia.