Thursday, August 20, 2015


Let reign dance your brain trance
and the fog in your noggin.
All aboard the bored gourd!
Destination: Misbegotten.

The generosity of your nebulosity
– a cirrus circling twerk.
Your numbnut nimbus quirk
– a cumulus murking smirk.

A flabbergast of ghost and gas
aghast dark attic inaction.
My mist of gist just missed your list
and mystified reaction.

You’re a puff-puff pas de deux
of Tweedle Dee and Dat’l Do,
but as MY faults are FAR from few,
and my thicker ticker tocks anew,
know I'm lost without you,
and will never say adieu.

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