Saturday, October 13, 2012

poem || John Pursch

Clear Lola

Wheel, virtual ivory wand, bet oil
dolly weed cleave to beehive
the gravy fuel hood swan in two
and keel the culled in killa goose.

“Hefter awl, the peerless loiter pegs
the whirled row country gown,”
Kabuki claimed.

“Erdos he?” scountered Cowboy’s Spike.
“As ent et luft what may kiss dawdling
pinkie ground in hoople crowned?”

“Hot’s a chomp lick addled caisson, bet luft,”
kneaded Toby in able-bodied bylaw denizens,
at spurtin’ hello conch cantations,
so stained a hover mannish moons,
and dish requited Bastille’s itchy likely
minted hat in ministerial taters,
nought greedy cheeks.

“Quench nougat mere tram high-five bullion
moo hands board a pale net hove his eyes,
toucan rock the collagen blonde repast
heft Yule etch haven a hind foul love
stabbers sluice at heist bedevils,”
opined Clear Lola.

“On fear chew naturally, we dent
canoe hoe two estop the wurst
hell almonds foam an itching droid
awn hour in migratory hips.
Sew tare’s a dander chest,”
pouted Antipasto Hugo.

The baste wick undo ice jet rain’s
fur olive hour popped ululation to
a really lively unblemished thyme
loin undo air bust whence weir tare.

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