Concurrent with the sound of an Ass-Clown,
this is the drum beat of my creme-de-le-crown,
It’s my au pair with dramatic lounge wear
Written over the unspeakable chowDARE,
of a pea-king premier powDARE
An Eschatological prayer beat
Of reanimated reconstructed bear meat.
Open up the reconfigure, my what du make it,
Whats the De Jure,
Whats it all for?
No idea but keep singing,
Ke/ep the risk of the hoping,
Homing in on a pure disturple,
disturbing dystopian purple.
Thats the homing bee,
the open cumin creeper of Q T
How long I’ve waited for thee.
not really, but lonely,
I’m the only,
What an upset, hurdle, bring on the girdle, long round the open court,
I am s season beyond reason and what works,
Now no longer able to see, bringing the ocean
The over, the open decision still waiting to be, waiting for it all
to wash onto, what has and had not been. it is is , Il y a na pas, no idea what i’m trending toward being,
have i said enough,
have i continued to disagree, both with myself, the past, all and the once and future king,
Bring it back to the dirt, you are forgiven, this is the end of my speaking killing spree,
Addendum be me.