more C-flat than gluttonous lungs,
these violins are autonomous now:
after breakfast Ceylon with broken scones,
the dunes languor monotonously.
total suffocation is to blame,
a quandary of the hirsute son.
Jesus, this soup du jour is ancient,
its slurping has no measures.
we took a mentally half-strung vase
and vented its misshapen flutings,
preparing it for export:
decay, deluge, parasols for monkeys.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
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simply wonderful
ReplyDelete"Jesus, this soup du jour is ancient,
its slurping has no measures."
-your son