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They lamented with untruths unto the diciples of illtrodded webbed feet until
some semblance of kindness was retrieved;
Past stroked layed down and wet with wonder, crawling beneath the farther
depths they plundered using longer words like lollygagging and pencilpopping
and retorted back with meaningless trifle, and aimed with wooden stocked
rifle firing each blame with careful aim-and hitting with shots, they called
these bullets;
Slipping eely snake-like withering into the inns and borrowing dead grins
future hopeful fathers and mothers stuck inside out, their feet hanging in,
hands spread out counting their fingers with thumbs up their noses and breath
dying poses;
Waste left in the porcelain lair of the witchy crafted boa wearing dancer that
cut her throat last just to make sense of moated, but the water rose too
quick, and once to the hips, her gun shots got wet, and she dipped for a sip-
The flame circled louder in chowder power smoked house lamenting jokes with
corn cob pipes and silly philabustering rhymes just to make sense of one try.



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The following comments are for "Coitus Jurisdictis"
by Wetice

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