She Wouldn't But the Notebooks Would

I am in receipt of your bucket of clams
thank you for the declaratory note

you are I take it a purebred surjection
that is to say your address has no numbers

was it you or someone you were in school with
who could stop time just by stroking

a watchband? And then you joined a guild
for poor dressers

This is I’m afraid one more I will have to leave
among the other valueless assets

my professorial bowtie my band of married men
in the country there is a wide path

to the po-box not as circuitous as you might think
had we stayed for the encore you would’ve fainted

the fish in the pond I stand in are made of colored glass
we‘re giants to them and they couldn’t care less

but at least one of us is employed without the need
of inventive flotation devices

did you say it was diabetes? is that guaranteed?
I can get curbside service on the strength of that

maybe but this buzzy sensation won’t dim
must be the uranium I smoked with Scott

in that pre-antarctic summertime livin’
there was much to administrate you would have loved

whereupon he appeared and we all fell apart
his suits were to dive for!

but the pugnacious romantic had a dream
to forge a new passage to the godgate

simple as keeping going north till you left
the earth then straight up by signs

his scheme was surefire but everyone died
crestfallen he fell from sight

the initial theory was arson
a Senator Doolittle spoke with the kid

mysteriously the deposition was found half eaten
in triplicate

now for the price of a chaw you can hear it
straight from Billy’s cross-gen beard

the lost man in an accipiter squadron strange
don’t they always hunt alone?

the gates we know were closed but the godbully
traveled to Armadillo Lawns to deposit this lie

a reversion of the body ruse (aka Carl LaFong) legend
in a watertight airtight lighttight tube

he spent his last years being kind to the condemned
ate their last meals for them

disseminated catalogues of emissivity protection
but how can a heated body be protected?

there was a pageant once in antiquity
the people there reveled in their sexing trance

Artemis shot the moon down with her hymen
it was a dang sight warmer on just stars

I had another daydream about you last night
you were using the whip on empty pants