Clop for the Lay-Filled
The loopy saliva is rendered out of stock with film buff
who is anthropomorphic, who slicks back
gender-wetted hair
giving gel tabs,
shooting blanks. Anthropomorphic, our cookbooks whet
rudders, of bosses, of cartography the
category, embezzled in a cheese-bottled
fisticuff. The Deliverance scene
taps wild children. Balkan soup is nigh, for
fox stance, in twilled pant gravity, the lost shampoo
is disclosure
fish-hooked, in the vat of this thing.
So bottled the poppy seed store
with ribbon and the shallow swells
of Office Depot, and the music of swelled Transylvania
music in the background. The lottery
of Scotland Yard in black cap,
it lets the awesome billiards win.
Her favorite red shoes, hellions in
yes, ruler ideas, in which the sunk-duck wins LeVay power,
drop and dash in Comcast-stricken right-brains. Felicity
of a democratic grandmother ruddily starkens sumptuous
philology, and I yours,
and monad, coiled fawns'.