cometty

twas the minute before 4:20
namely 4:19
and Monique Gourgaud was painting
in her secret and ambiguous
planetary garden

sweet sheaves of pudding
sweet cones of delicious repast
twas the minute
and the minuteness of counting
that the Countess Gourgaud
was counting on
in this gorgon moment

when the whole gauche guache
should report of kosmon
should distill at last this guano nougat
unto plum and greengage tomato
of gory fang

for minutes count minutely
que strawberry strabere?
que strew very infordra:

they were 50 kilometres from Saint Christobel which,
although Hodgetts had moaned was “a bloody long way”
was, according to Jean-Jacques Boar, the best place
to hunt for a particular type of wild boar, one that he said
tasted of truffle. Hodgetts lay fast asleep.
Sanchez wondered how Natasha and the others
were getting on.

aye
the northern gold
the Lithuanian amber
allows instant travel
to where the gods congregate
and to reach the afterlife
of the truffle

twas the minute before 4:20
namely 4:19
and Monique Gourgaud was painting
in her secret and ambiguous
planetary gewgaw

conduco
conduco

with a face like gingerbread
and the voice
of a buffalo


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