Off The Mark Its Permanent Cuff.

If will clank hole,
and where the perimen
of its glossy hybreed
of alien did clutch
the peripherization's
werebag, a cold milk
of gem would suddenly
coagulate the language,
all mosy and toward
the un, a hifist
fustal and creed.

Its door
has nine separate
sections.

Its complicated
and branching moldings
are often home
to visitors
of a curious bent.

They harangue
the loose confederations
which dally
upon the bott-hammer
and remove the last
of the boon;

the boon
which had shed
so finely
rightly, and
for so many seasons,
some mythical beast
with liquored breath
carrying a parchment
from an unlikely
and remotely
traveled option,
catalysis
with

Zambra
and Negretti.

Huyuk.
Huyuk.
Huyuk.

Do Earth's
chattel
mysterious?