19 At the 'Green Runt', (And Just Beyond)

Coal lightning shone across
the stars.

A smarmy yesterday
at the local pub...


"Even half a cardigan like this
will whittle away tortuous,
undesirable girth!!",

coughed up the harassing
ad huckster

between 'news' flashes
of yet one more arrest

at the 'dedication' ceremony.

And the expected daily
plummet in OvenCo's
public stock.


"The unlimited thrashing of
a thousand fiberglass ropes

quickly melts away anomalous
back flesh!",

bleated from the fitful jukebox.


In the surrounding respiration
of anti-commando patrons;

of aromas of mandarin oranges,

custard 'stuffies',

mohair lotion (risking fallout),

and their ''Parliament'' brand
pommade,

Pearl Gladdsmell
crocheted cornea models

despite a recurrent
though partial itch.

___________________


Due to the pointless decrees
of chainstore celebrities---

"Behold! The Edible Building!!"

Slabs of emerald jellies
framed in giant crimson 'whips'
the size of tank cars.

Capped off with a gumdrop
module huge enough for
televisualized stilt fights.


The skin graft bat trapped
in the mammoth drapes

of the Old State House

now 'CONDEMNED'.


The former chairman's

favorite maps and
his lost list of broken ashtrays

awkwardly stuffed in the
basket of the one

wax bicycle ditched
in the gun room 'caverns'.

___________


Hand-picked
Mr. Minus Maske
with the barely pandering
introduction:

"And noww,

risking waves of
you formerly so fortunate,

And, nowwww,
the as ever apart,

always powdered,

beyond accounting for,

Chairman Thornrumpus.

{Accomplishments: Nothing.}


Recently so incapacitated.


Alone in the Margery River,

gurgling epithets,

spinning like a wheel, he was

found tangled in his fish line.


A most capable, certified
while-u-wait doctor,

a Doctor Francis Oubliette,

(capable of turning the dead),

barely rescued
his ruined ear canal

during the night.


Today, his feet skip fire.

Nooo serious after effects.

Beyond a switch of
guitar hands

(in some ways
an improvement).


A wide across scarrr
wrapping his noggin

never to be commented
upon-pon-pon.


And a stylish limp

you can hardly notice
notice notice.


Need we now
any further
unreminders

of past follies?!
follies?! follies?!


Such as that
scandalous,

unforgivable,

mounted pygmy

now tucked under

your local bar

in deserved shame

(pending a respectful

remooval?) ooval?) ooval?)


Oh, Yes, and that

one last BIG emergency--

atomic bedlam-m in

the skeleton mines

ines..ines.


Where was I? i? yi? yi?


Who was up next? -ext? -ext?


Hardware?? Ohh...

And please remember
to collect your
complimentary appliancesss."


"Coo! Does that mean
we get twoooo??"

"He said applianceS!"


Canine stares.

Our hearts former fluttering
guttered and then winked out.


In the Council steamroom
backward rears,

apart in talcum.


[Cue the uncouth gas].

18 Looking for an Opening

Come whittle away the halves
of the greyhound's hairbrush.


The Great Unlimited Lightning Machine,

minus undesirable fiberglass

nighties, stuffed in during the
masquerade,

awaits 'The Runt', purported to be
the only man capable

of turning the switch

back from the dead.

[Cue guitars].


Ahh, Miss Thorne's 'tortuous' cardigan
and stylish aromas...

a quick mount in the back of the
while-u-wait appliance store,

risking a complementary custody

in some serious chains.


Our jelly hearts fluttering,

unfortunate reminders of former
anniversaries:

the pleading and harassments,
capped off with melting 'emeralds';

the thrashing like canines,
wide girths draped across
mohair modules;

the best stilt movie ever ruined
by commandos;

and the traumatic gurgle
of bacon-induced cardiac arrest.



The Skin Graft Bat
respires anomalously,

its wax corneas
yet one more edible.


Medical bicycles as ever fall
apart in the talcum mines

due to uncontrollable rumps'
coughing backfire.


A never-to-be rescued
'pearl' oven

rears backwards in the canal.



Chairman Half-a-Nothing,
(who was certifiable)

shone ever crimson,

an uncouth 'star'

up one big green itch:

the partial skeletons
of pygmy models

spin in the company
roulette wheel.


His lost list of favorite naps

tucked under a broken ashtray.