(AppreCJ8n, 0.47: Psychiatric Garnish)
as a phantom sealeg is t'a
downapeglegged not that greatwhitedigested badladmiral,
ahoyer more AHHHH than hoy,
painsailing for ow long as a piece of hamstring.
'Slike when You're gone You're not gone,
like spiritualaspect of Our caresses will help Our ghosts bond,
no maze in death if Ourghosts live dead close.
Forwhy me and i will forget You
like a hole swoln for a dead head,
the alzheimer's connectedtathe stigmata
in nolongerpalms of nolongerhands
once worth Two of the best.
Remain no less near than here, which isnearly nearenough - c'mere Dearie!
As an afeart 'n' cicatriced seniorless junior under
totalwarwidowmama's skirt o' holes, holey and flapping
like hateragsof statesmen thatflipped,
i'm muscularly umbrella'd by bustle of Your nurture.
Beats the world's beatings.
o when i'm nearly none when i'm no.
o when i'm dogs of irony fighting over a dead dog's bones.
ohoweverclose
i amtalife ornot,
when it seems an immanent, interminable, unreal
do do do do do de do do do do do do do do do
phenomenon
do doo bedodo
phenomenon
do dodo do
phenomenon
do doo dedodo dedodo dedodo dedododoodle do do dodoo do
and phenomenonward
tillit comes a go - phyzzlouts, wozzabluff maledict-
if
a Smile of Your finest love
ha'nt filled thedread lapse in meaning
before i neckandneck
withthat dreadlapse in everything,
rainstinking king of nothing,
cledonistic celebrity
of imblinkable bone eye dull.
Rugged mort is
th'extreme eyerester,
whose demonic sockets are chock o' hollow
realism, the rainstinkin' demon toting
psychotically mitotic
telomerazors in ten white sticks
like florid weathercocks of bone.
o seraphtor on chequeredflagwings
lifts up metastasticks with celerity
no celerysticks can whitestickinthemud,
for lastmealofacondemnedman
is that universal sidedish,
the everafter esurient yet
innocent as a chocoholic.
But Cee figured outwhat i couldn't:
how a twist of untwisted trust tricolates
thebitterness of that sociopathogenic filling,
life, sandwiched asitis between
the two great knownunknownena,
the noumenom we were made of
and the noumenom to which we shall return.
But Ceejay, stay right here and i'll alwaysay yay You're right. There,
how's that?
Close, butno halo of smeg for my leading sausage role
Luvvie. No, closer than the mental bone,
than smut ta ma boney heartbe my Dollypalone Piggesnye
- tho' i'm not implying You have piggy knees.
Nor is that litotes - You're no ethiopal fruit!
Wait, You're the goldilocks weight...
o I'd be doing poison porridge
not being baited by You!
Foot in mouth my signaturedish,
for my wok is in the dock
when You implicate an pekingese
in my pekingduck,
Saucy Minx of Sausmix!
You sue for peace with a meatfree
gallimaufrey ofartichokeheart darkarts,
slamshut my innercookbook
when i'm a peckish wreckhead.
Bedrest assured, this isno cupboardlove
like oldmotherhubbard and ronald mcclagish,
but i still beglike a rookie cannibal for a peck
offa You. Havingsaid that, his nibs still expects Yernosh,
as well as Yerregularly superseized nips
- a perving suggestion.
'Love is like a psychiatric garnish,'
or so a talent for cynicism might tarnish
a sustention that couldn't be sweeter
- not just sugarnish, 'tis a saccharometerobsoleter
- i'll smack my bottomlip, recap'll link the gap:
seriously, Ceejay taught me ta love at all.
And tho' i'll never be ordered or taller or wishtawash
more than one ball at a time,
in fits i'll tryif it'll kill a Ceejaysigh
like vlad the impaler vlattened by an impala.
Mysoul isnot infinitisimally farapart, but so close
i infinitely find out
what any soul could - lovefor Cee - there's nothing ta it, soulwise no two its
so there is not nothing. At last.