Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Ethereal Beauty #38

Barking thoughts multiply in my rotating head,
Evaporate like essence of embalming fluid
On the nutsac of an invalid, invalid
With leaf.

Sending McGonagals to teenage models
Who click with shock my party pic, the caca
Of my call coffined in shady outcrop,
I perspire.

I was a reverse ringer for a verse knock-off
Amongst Lewis Carroll animals when
My barbellated mug twitched like a robin's nest
In heat

And I succumbed to vapid vers libre upchuckings
From my saltpetered Adam's apple lurching
Crazily up-and-down like a porn extra

Flounce, my dear(est) dry perfumed battleax, I’ll bounce
Cough drops off your nubile ass, chalk my horns, rub hands
As Satan's kin commence to tunnel through my brain,
Locked up.

Quiet, quiet, forebodings of my yesteryears,
There'll be peace in the valley, piece in my dreams,
Clad and glad with the collecting handmaiden's brood

Unleashed unto the funkiest corners of the globe,
My legacy of slack-jawed proof will continue
The tortuous recordings, the tethered soul
Of groans.

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