That time Nobody
got stuck inside the Omphalos
& swallowed quick
by someone else's old
man; the closest he'd get
to such treasures
as his daughters were--
punchy in the paunch,
so it was he was filled
with bile, yellow & black
like a wasp, spat up
again without ceremony,
without a name, without
a number, without a
clue as to why
he wasn’t more thoroughly
digested,
left to his own
devices even though they
retain no charge
corroded as they are,
an erosion
of traditional family values,
false hope of eloping
with the farmer’s daughter
aforementioned.
No comments:
Post a Comment