ta . . .
ta ta ta.
i see your dripping distillations
(i see your bait dangle).
it’s half a tao, this tao.
yuck. sat a bit, some sissy fuss, lynn eating.
enough, aye, here.
the rear rug cranium jig gives agony—
so, have eight.
have eye dew.
you are a he-nine.
are! i scream,
i am your retro-nine!
for riches’ fee my ass is in the air. (you play coy.)
oh, suck muck, bays a troop of lancers.
fog is a smart-ass.
between walls, here i go.
making novellas of suns, i go.
(Copyright 2023 by Tetman Callis.)