Thursday, February 3, 2011

The Chicken Got Home on the Cocoanut.

O Tuna,
O Tuna!

O Chicken of the Sea, that which is
eternally got to me, Max Müller
reads upon the Gunas down
Waiheke way...

Oh Montagu,
O Montagu!

Has Hawaiian eel taken brain up
for song? Is Daphne long
in the tooth which is the flesh
of a chicken in a cocoanut helmet?

O Mangaia,

Omen Gaia!

How do Bozo sapiens sing?
Tuna! Tuna!

and Thunnitis, Max says
a disease of language
needs a nostrum of folk etymology.

O wild chicken..
In Ina the moon-nut-brain-eel-fig's
Indian lover awoke,

In Vedic figs, eels of candied cocoanut.

Cooking chicken in figs
and the dark vinegar.

Are there Sea Chickens in England?
In 1560's Ingelend, the disobedient child sighed, but
"Her tonge and her tune is very shryll."

How do bozo chickens arrive
in kuku nous?

O wild Thymmnus, O tinny howdlerists!

O Homeric Tuna!
O Tumeric Homo!

Will enormous chickens carry prickly pear jellybeans
to be sacrificed in the volcano?

Will thunder hang like black fruit
in the brain tree of Lord Tuna Eel
in coconut armor?

O Tuna! O Tone us!

O Toon! Tuin! Muin! Ruin! Duin! Shuin!

O clacky cocoanuts of galloping Python's Monty.

O precepts! O little steps.

O musical shoes..