What a slothful Tom!
Skinless dirigible on asphalt deck.
Clavicle take off and soft landing.
Clankety-clunk,
Junk or dhobi?
Heinz number nine,
Rubi one Kenobi; ibis eons, zweye,
in the house: dry. Sontag afternun.
sister lulu, father zulu…
A marriage made in heaven. Bless’em.
Four no rule,
no measure years,
just got back mid-morning:
soft landing,
natives just the same, not me;
too much time to think, you see,
so everything is good or bad up there.
Back with a head full of seaweed, razor
whale gore,
syphilis and carnage. Whodunit?
Ask the guy in the looking glass. He say:
Author of your own destruction
with a little help from your
acknowledgements.
Left is right.
Right is left.
No turning back
You know too much
Grimbeau 