crooned the flitter song
~to 'doris: quite the peacock-- plumed
by sun-stroke-fingerbunny, gasping
when Old Wallace spoke to me,
~chantsea subtum vigor
as i terraced lovely dawn,
-stretched a yawn, back-flipped inside
corn silk radish - straddled! bent her
caught in stockings, longed to render
verses meant to catch and send her
to read the paper loud
then amanita: your
sweet bud, yes!
- then, was it me?
walking like a wolf, like a fish, like a blowfly...