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Saturday, May 9, 2009

Good Verse Rescueth Mime

Cultural exploration, vernacular particles of self, realized,
I salute thee:
Were it not so, I would suffer the fate of far lesser banality,
Suffering madly for art, and
Wallowing wildy in aphorism, alliteration, and allegory -
Lest I swear.

Far better, an incorrect salute,
Than a mouthed
Fart into Space; especially in mixed company.
Yay, it approacheth...high irregularity!
(Perish the thought...dear down under...he says, mildly, if somewhat..slowly,
In response, trying to breathe between suppressed laughter)

Luckily, verbiage rescues - anon,
And I utter,
Swaying wildly;
Lest mammaries cloud vision
And ears slip away, erstwhile....I sigh:
Ah, to feel elfin! It's driven to dervish, I am,
Though flit be far - and flat the soda:
I bloom, then, and blush, sweet lodge sheen upon the
Hills of Morning,

.....remembering Latin.

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