Thine is the ping, pang, plink, and ever for
staked landscapes off the grift, dapple doon,
do the rip sake for a gaproot girl with tabs
near squawk haven, country ain soph, the ratchet stanky
zipper batch, a loan for sewing this wordlatch.
Fleur-by-French-Broad tapestry, oiling tapes, wigs,
don't fib it off on an ad-lib monkey
who can shake the zygote rack. Mountain maps like
grit splay, hairy lung canopies, dust cache
for a product nearing Malkuth, stick-stack-stang.
A foundation blames a seed, dear Vadge Wando.
About the size of a flaming pineapple, his little book
fell apart, his hide was cut to juice flow,
hot piss cutting a hideaway in the ashes.
