Our wits have been read,
And so I instead,
Have proclaimed,
Something
Could be –
Ran amuck
So much stuff
That I can’t puff my
Chest out
Like a quarreling dove that can’t see
It’s mate flew
To
Another tree.
Projections could’ve been in the works,
Anger undisturbed,
Never faulted, misunderstood,
Only to switch up directions,
Mind-numbing from the scope of attention –
So that some of those snails
Crawled into that
Bag
From frresshh, the islands you’ve seen,
Crawled to death,
Only to be fed,
A textured bed,
Of saline.
In which they could no longer seep
that sweet sea breeze
round the lungs
down to the diaphragm,
in
circulation.
They got trepidatious,
osmosis despondent on
some, sort of variation
scream – shrill – laughter
thrilled, basqued, and shatter
in the burn of the heat
shelled, after the bag
before the pot
hits the burner
of the stove
no one knows
why it has an air fryer.
The snails from the heat
either lofty after, sweet
rotting deaths
determines their necks
are imploding in-to
weak
will-of-course
so they stop short –
very few cry,
all the more time,
to delight for some
sharing
of laughter,
recant some former morbid banter,
stay alive, only for a viewing
of the next course,
vie to see
if sea-snail life
could ever persist
for a moment longer
swiftly, not stronger
on the
right
side
of the
chopping block,
served, with a cup of tea.
Hopefully dismay,
will keep the snails around to say,
“Maybe the next course won’t be so salty, eh?.”
Inspired and sluggish,
a snail quite;
grand in gestures, per say
Was then served on
a bed of hay;
the poor man’s
mattress they say..
Weevils embedded,
And so instead did –
this man decides to eat
the bed,
Including all-that – hay.
There was snails in his salt,
in the bag, when he gandered across,
how? could this be?
Suddenly daffodils
fall! from the ceiling
a massive bonsai tree crashed,
only revealing
floral scents of gardenia
prevailing
by! like a perfumed breeze.
Suddenly a mouse caught ten
Wheels of Cheese -spent!
There was herbs in those cheeses, you see.
Say no to pickles, I like
Olives, no fickle –
squishy crispy texture
I can’t understand
But proclaim to a man
shot in one hand
then chooses pickleback for chaser,
Sour, you chose.
I’m more briny, verbose
in scope
of my
delectable drinks.
Withering vanes know,
I have no chase to go,
The deers come
to my front yard
when it rains.
If the spirit of adventure,
is at it
in lecture,
I suppose gaia’s green
earth is dispelling
claims
high-narry
ways
instead
of a new set
of strings.
archaic and accidental;
so spoke the mantle,
that would normally carry one’s
pair of keys
venturer sojourn
blew the car horn –
every time
a truck 16
would pass and he’d
find another wheel of cheese –
discus for tongue, you’ve got it all wrong!
spider recluse?
browned, of some use,
are poisonous in threats,
they’ll eat off your leg
in one bite
that punctured,
with it’s captivating
pair of incisor teeth.
Fueled a flame,
bacteria in vein,
then caused a knee to lose 3.
Slow burn, crawl
enthralled by it all
a bite
to note its existence
and so installed a spider that all
but found a clock to gawk
and watch hours slip by in agony
only for pain
and stubbed-toe rain dance sway
at the limp foot
the ankle that hooks
to swear
practice is only for stability.
But birds
eat these spiders too.
Snakes.
Microbacterium can kill them.
Probably even the same, found on the moon.
So, before too soon.
The dinosaur crawled,
genetics survailed
thoughtful heir
to
a killer queen
auntie t-rex
is pretty spent
moving jungle trees
around for a rest
at least just the neck
my arms hurt even if they’re tiny.
She shares.
Yet she screams
and she roars
and sublimates to pass
a few eternities
and instead wakes with dread
she looks to the reflection pool
only to find a hen,
staring back,
auburn locks
and ivory tips
that draught! like
the ultimatum!
Time becomes slow!
Because everyone knows
dinosaurs walked
so chicken hens reign
their ingenuity
enthralls others
with
migraines!
Wicked extension,
I caught my head suspension,
teatherd, tattered, and torn,
I ripped it off myself,
follicles spelt
and as my head imploded
and all that was noted
a color
like
chartreuse.
Enhanced with green,
toxicity, slimed!
beyond capacity,
where the hell do eggs born of game and search occur
that the auntie-t rex
stirred
for 600
to say,
66 million
years,
without quick search, a
guesstimate from the brain
served as salted hay,
on a platter, and thus did scatter
the chicken hen
that shattered
when she saw the plastic bin
of rotisserie
wins
and that’s what came after
the achaeopteryx
they, flew to the sky
grew feathers
said bye
and suddenly hen is dinner.
Darwinian dismay,
golden finches,
near the bay
of the
galapagos.
Islands once sought,
if only I had my glasses to see,
brighter and clearer
the finches and the cardinals
neither
know what it is
that
always smells
so
much
like
amber.
By then the Canadian flock of 10,
shows me otherwise,
geese gone graven, craving
advice:
let a silly goose fly.