Looking Songs
periwinkle light
Periwinkle light!
Periwinkle light!
You're my little
Twinkle joke,
Periwinkle light.
In the 60s,
On the playground, a
50s wind was at my back, I
Put my
Periwinkle light
Inside my chest for keeps.
Oh little, little
light, so dim
And sparklike, 'neath
My churned-up sternum,
Periwinkle light!
x-ult!
Jelly whelk, jelly whelk
Where's your skull?
"Up on the Moon, sir,
When it's full."
Soggy beans, soggy beans,
Where's your clog?
"Out in the yard, sir,
With the dog."
Hobo bat, hobo bat,
Where's your meat?
"Up in your ass, sir,
Where you seat!"
Bacon clown, bacon clown,
Where's your node?
"Under the bench, sir,
Written in code."
root-file magnetos
Clompy tuna! It is time to breathe,
And feel out, clompy tuna, what you have to do.
Clomp. Clomp. Bompa-domp.
Clompy tuna!
my cow-girl, nerdlitz
Me tousled on the root-hop tree.
Me thimbled by the belted bee.
Me sordid on the zig-zag felt,
Me fertile on the pipe-heap veldt.
Me sex-hund at the rooty do,
Me blocked black under talc-y grue.
Me donut after stoppled time,
Me triggered by a beeping lime.
mal dough roar
I pote Tolubeen, ageen.
slumpy porch v-8
God who is a pinto bean
Regards us one and all
He has to crane to look at me
Because you are so tall
God who is a pinto bean
Is very, very bright
And when he sucks his tiny tooth
It sparkles in the night
God who is a pinto bean
Delights the taters, too
And when he springs, his rubber legs
Go wobble, through and through
God who is a pinto bean
Jumps, glad, into the ricer
He's ground into a stew-y sop
To make his Bible nicer
God who is a pinto bean
Rolls hairballs into Os
He likes to color them with dye
And hang them from his nose
God who is a pinto bean
religiosity = molybdenum + ro-tel
Hey, you: I worship Ted,
the peeking God.
When I come home at night,
He peeks at me.
When I wake up at dawn,
He peeks again. At me.
Did I say that already?
Oh, I am sorry.
Even now, He peeks
out of crushed orange juice
boxes. There's no escape
from the peeking Eye
of Ted, so why try?
I don't. The tenets of Ted
are easy to follow.
It's His Sidekick, Ron,
who is a real pain
for me to understand.
Ron doesn't peek - Ron
irons. That's all He
does, all day and night:
iron, while Ted is peeking.
onions on the march
Mitch and March are
slinging dartsh;
entrails, la la; we're
spaghettini-hear ye, hear ye!
The mode is Dorian,
the status, blue; toast
will warm yer belfry, too
I-Thou, Koh-I-Noor, OK?
Vanna, what's Ho-
Ho-Kus to our crap-crowned
rat? It's traytables, TV
Dinners of the Gods.
bim-ko
lob it, bim-ko, to the stars,
bim-ko. up to the very nights, bim-ko,
where the humpies live.
bim-ko, whip it into the heapy wheels,
bim-ko, what with yer starry
kouch po', and yer lemniscate rake bo',
and yer minority pim to', bim-ko,
you are very tarp, too tarp, bim-ko,
lava limp no', bim-ko,
my twheels are bjorn's.
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