homing in on retrodopterous insects, buzzing wings
and flying things annoy the lady as she sings.
wolf and cat alike do smear palpable palmfuls
of plenary stuff all around and roundly so.
picking up the gazette, mitre moved in-surreptitiously
past plumage of ostrich, peacock, and petticoat blossom.
feeling for my shortsword i begin
to murmur in my heart my soft demidread
and subnormal fears of death that whispers
unheard in my ears. avaunt! and back with ye,
to your chthonic hell, for i'm no titan to
suit your swelling dungeonful'o darkness and
my aforementioned petticoat blossoms are
ruminant and olfactorily eloquent like rotten roses.
Premiere! Puissance! Potomac powerhouse of pottery!
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