quagmire

Quagmire
9-27-18

In the qaudrangle I get the cheap brand instead of the Wranglers
In yet a vacancy in Fletcher for tyrants all kings cleft by a crooked crack
Including reptiles explanatory notes as to polish their medals for the overview
Of key themes and rich make them what is it buck but another Metropolis
In Vivian tableaus as the final collection is applied for declines
On the Chapel Street eight lanes wide
Let's make the morning last for a mute reminder
Taking up Gaffney imaginative and atmospheric evoking a world of hidden marvels
In electronic eyelids biding the combination for horse cages and street whacking
Let 'em stay Stephen
Count it up quite frank....






At Gar's Hill
9-27-18

Just then the phone rang
As the dial tone sang for a bone pang
Under the Baltimore sun I meet you on the run in tales of New York
Pure bliss in bows and in chalice
As for the souls of Allen and Alice
All for the rainbow
Loving it in my field
We've got to get on with it
And never mind the sign that reads, "Yield"
Satisfyingly complex as to complicate the task
And hide behind another mask
Now you're cooking with oil
As we cast them out of the furnace as so teeth grind no longer
Now that my jaw is stronger so it will be at the end of the age
All among Granny's man halted singing behind bridges
Born in Pourtsea as the second of the eight sons
Stick to your guns in Hogarth back to Marshalsea







Accretion Revisited
9-27-18

As we quite wisely disagree for terms that evaporate
For the feelings of the text in fatality and fever
Where many knicks offend as to but defend
Choosing Chuzzlewit as less so to just say no to Hogarth
And to say, O yea, unforgettable
May us draw the line upon Cohen and Prine
O, young immigrant the machines do most of the work
Fraught with suspense for clusters dense and sixpence
Preparing it for presentation
We've come this far and there's no turning back
As it calls itself a mystery in a falling in and out of bridges built and burned
In the literary page turned brawny and old school
Call no man fool fared by accretion......





My Own Metropolis
9-27-18

Wardrobe window shopping is not life threatening
Of wishes sour and blissful hours accompanied by the sober altogether
We're not alone engaged with history in San Jose Mercury and our epic journey
God have me to go through with it
During its fulfillment still reading it for recreation
As so it will be the end of the age
Just turn the page standing by peaceful mists
And no such closed fists
Given a pair of virtual sunglasses to see clearer
All oxen, rams and asses
Being as one to give it back
Where humidity amazes the snowman
Let both grow together until the harvest in tundanetal hard times
In the buyer yea our sinner turning out to be the winner
As so the tares are gathered......