Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Desert Rations




bat thee, bay thee,
wha' tub in plaid skins
to milk thin rigs
which pout and pudawdle
the quai-long-chain-of
braidlings, and their upsbrot.
hups brot? whops frot?

how shape thee eternal froth
to shine like a chin
babpulsy in broth,
O wild chilis
a donkey nibbles
in moonlight.

O Gondwana!
Where sleek Andrewsarchus roared
under old stone
like bleak candy, blue from weird algae
and stanky.

O devil parasititical wasp thing
interrupting my bud, O history
of INSECT GALL!

oh lemon claw,
thing which is ugly
and smells nice
to a mudchap
in a clinktrap
with a bat head
with a dead letter.

Fossils are memory files.
And Nature was largely already
a computer.

What exactly was wrong with the first
3 or 4 Billion years of gnashing and fucking
and eating and fighting?

Everything!

Would be the correct answer
I'm sure.

Lemuramoeba.
Lemuramoeba.
Lemuramoeba.
Lemuramoeba.
Lemuramoeba.
Lemuramoeba.

I could make you a funny felt hideaway
for your sissy chittering shrewdles.

Pancho.
Pancho Villa
and the Camels.