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!
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