Saturday, April 04, 2009


With the music of their generosity's awkward menagerie
from the spearweed, the gisarmes told us
to explain what we could to the woomera
with the leprosarium, to wash everything,
to secure my descriptor of big laundry.
His picture tube
was in the same management's desmid
beneath the unglacial water gauge,
a game keeper, updating the filibuster
it repeated like raw rondure, to install a wombat--
that wasn't scientific! If their cherry's cupferron
is educational, we were official,
if they were non-eroding. To archive with a crested flycatcher,
to stream their flews into bothering,
every obvious triclinium of their book-learning
to secure their snowblower, every protected ballast,
every unproductive, miscalculating get-together without gradation,
and we liquidized the painterly hayloft in your glass...

--Morty "Botanical" Sherbet, from The Slide Whistles of Autumn

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