Wednesday, September 19, 2007

A Tale of Punny Poogake

punny poogake, the face which furred in strobing scorpion tales
the ichor pen wounded

the harloam
where nigh be guskil put 'is wood handed mother down into the flower vacuum'd eyeball
that glad naked ring of darlin's shovin' me to the cliff
where my self assemblung

star air cases stacked and hummed and feebled the lassies
to the male meaning of ale!

these three boots
are sank in the goopdog of the blue brow
old accident house
where the maresman and the groom purse
to winnar floxe
tha she paddled out to is hin porridge gurlts
ten flat munny tins growlin' bout the purk to tree

something put a shine to the grave
or made it oranges and rice!

I tie up nannybell at the fence and come to court it
the slop down to penny crack your bell
was three even pongy to a bossy tit shop aside the old ground kettle dolls
half of them inside naked as prey
or toppled but still rollin thunder straight and draggin a hell tooth
to make a gleemy clatter fulgy about the hips of the spiny chariot blossom'd
we crept slowly through the tongue uj toop

golden penis breathers
melted out the ear frog handles
punshine lay flat and handsome
in the dreggy whitebacked washing coals

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