bhuasmi

Daft as a thrush in song,
peppered by turtle dove shot, 
endangered specious snipers go to pot
seen nobody but your familiars 
since the shodding excursion. 
No discourse on the telling bone 
except to the pharmakon
one egg owed to the corner shop. 
Sir Noot ate all the crusty bread. 
Mettoys crude long vehicles 
jacknifing in your head
as i breathe i grows 
rich transporting ancient coins 
over the funicular isthmus 
on the tough bodies 
of the cattle of Bashan