text || John Pursch

Mummy Pie

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Lola Kirov, looking ornery, hollered, "I'll sue Schwab, you libelous phoney!"

"Appeal, ma'am, to the chief," jawed a kinky, evil, aloof veep. He scowls: "Whoopee, femme!" 

"Avoid a weak lawyer, itchy emigre," a cheery bum beamed. "I hope no lawless chasers subpoena you. Coax the educated home bosses before a heavy foe nears town."

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"Vilify a macho attache; a smelly, chummy exec; a hashish seducer... Go testify to a high power, unhappy Lola."

"Well pitched, hobo. Have a pear, you shaggy Chekhov."

"I'm a courier, a bearer of highway honey, Lola. I'm Cowboy Ike Cargo."

"Who knew?"

"I wish every gutsy harasser a gloomy, harsher June: icy eaves, archway shivering, oily booze, Schwab erupting..."

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Bahama Matt, a magic Casanova, a beefy beadle, hunts a higher aqualung; dodging sail, jib, judge, snare, salvos, ... He moved illicit opium, looted annually.

Mummifying Ramses, Emily (a helluva gouger) hews inner gory patchwork, humming: "Shampoo the aorta piping, gooey niches, raunchy hipbone, kneecap,"

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"cheek, fanny..." Emily, weary, coughed. "How each image oozes by: myrrh decaying, tissue eroding, tibia bonier... A lavish, meatless, amazing fugitive; a knobby accrual. All hail Giza, you cheeky Arab. Halfway home. Phew! I'll sully your burial if I file off a jawbone chip. Polish hip, spine, yucky endoscopic hole... Swab, moisten, apply aloe..."