The triffid and the loon went out on the town They pulled out all stops and painted it brown The triffid had venison like Alfred Lord Tennyson The loon ate four chickens to honor Charles Dickens And when all was said and most of it done they concluded, by Jove, they’d had lots of fun
trek if ye dare into the wood defy the enveloping mist and when ye be lost, forlorn, without hope with doom ye will hold a last tryst
dimly folds the random night darkly on its hinges nevermore will things be right unless the mermaid cringes oh, my friend the albatross hiding in the grotto fangs my soul and urges me to drink until i’m blotto dimly folds the random night darkly on its hinges nevermore will things be right nevermore will things [...]
When my life stash of learning I dump and sift From the trash heap resultant I’m able to lift A three word phrase, a whimsical gift The three words are random, genetic, and drift
tiger tiger burning bright are you near though out of sight waiting for me to step through that feeble curtain of bamboo hope not
the moon is made of butter fat the sun is made of cheese if i’m not perpendicular please elevate my knees – the moon is made of blubber paste the sun is made of grain if i’m not horizontical please ship me north by train
When ghosts arise from the murk of dusk to shadow over the lake, they long to recall that time in yore when they ate that really good cake.
trembling paterfamilias endow my life with cheese and if you can’t accomplish that please cure my damnable wheeze
june – june wobbles apace with savage lips my soul to disembowel – oh crafty june i spurn thee in thy greenest mood hell is my comfort
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