Friday, June 15, 2012

Then Breotan Bared the Brytenwang

far-stretching and spacious, the all-signing fang

the hearty burglar, at first
listed out the complaintes
of the weary forme, the items
necessary to remain, in the
service of its vis-a-vis,
the visne of its visna.

to tattoo a brine-thane's
brayne, one needs the proper
toomatoogooroo, the wild
Irishman's gourd o'mati,
a kuru of maetaphysickals
for a long veined chant.

there, then, to sneake off
down into the mine, carried
by canary epaulets, ear-bubbles
as silent to tympanum, as the
gruff grass is to the pyrpigged
support riggers' rolling eyes.

for whatall: gold is half-baked,
and time translucent; space, the beak
of absolute hunger ~would its sex / a
black pearl displayed halved-as-a-hex
towards graceful fingers, and food
a tempest irony uniting and untying.

fog all wraith frog their fra-flagrant fragenella!
the sweet green skin of a pear, its alum
bitter undertow, a lie, the white isles,
their prosperous pods lit by thanatosis,
thankful, and the bright preet dimmity, its
hieroglyphick faustia, let it purprossem..

hy! and what a final commodity!
the goods are slumped to their molds
and the long yellowe codgers come
ambling out skinny, and jack-knifing
through the rushes, the wan vermillion
clouds puffed there in the clowning drone.