O thou lissome strands of pearl barley,
frolic with orbital weather fit for tacking sail,
lace up my gravied herds of dace and fellow cyprinids with extruded square planetoids
and filibuster in a hot cathedral all the sage’n’onion weekend
with magnetic boob tape and the queasy rendering of spoken mumbles and ship’s biscuits —
be gravimeter-shy of Gulliver when probed like a crescent on a pink Wednesday!