Thursday, November 24, 2011

text || John Pursch


Nay, ye antideluvian cider welch, ill alarng we've beknownst that cinder's lone besmirchin' wave, sinkin' low the crunch o' bone and wrack-o-rocks ye sing so well, as only ye canst dewline, doodle-do. Arg, conflatee, yer hidin' less than null wavelets, bay; thinks yerself opaque, do ye? Fancies yer mates a buncha idiots, a mob o' squealin' marans? Aye, seein' through it all and then some, we are, down to the slop, boy; the garbage pail has ye sussed, the shanks o' dead whale hast yer bleedin' number, doggie o' logs.

O, ye pissiman doudle, yein be flogged und wranked te the depth, consprocket. Spittance pent ye, bay! Craim yer prazen begt far murchian wheezin', ye scall'wagger bug! Pipe 'em over the rails, Mister Ramiter; givem hart scaldins tilst his rheumian squeamin's tarn mouth's a bleiphan trench o' stool. Dowager limiant, floggal and freeze, contuman spinian, rabble-de-raze, yer bones'll be noggered and notched with the death o' carbonized floodles and edgian crests, the seventy seasons o' piracy's ways, the craziest amulets strangle yer doozian, doggie-like doom, yer phineal drainage, ye pollywog blaggard.

Order! Order, I say! Now hearest, on this the penultimate day of judicial perumential flostulence, on the good ship of Bartumian Seaside Settee, knownst to all as the most Justinian bland in the tri-cornered planet of Dearth; hear me, I say into thown moven, plenitucular hog ears. To wit, one ambling, unfortunate seaman, flogged nearily to the spillage of twain contradictory confessorial blasphemies, forced to spewing heresies in the good name of fatherly cesspools...

Aye, the stink-a-raisin' the zombies outa me own septic tank of a werewolf fer a son, who's I keep a-locked up triplewise 'neath a concrete blockhouse, bats the belfrey outa that beleaguered boatswain, brought befar ye to face the depth charge o' mutinial lineage, bile-spewin' matee corentian heggle, ipso-maniacal hedge spottin' on the highest seizures, amidst the main and jetsam of a whaler's bilious brake pad breath...

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