Bantering with Octagons

[Jimi]

Snuffling scents
enjoying Friends
cooking comforts...

in the end
we circle round
to where we began.

 

[sigh]

circle
in a jerk

fly main attributes of astonishment glance sparingly off the dome of paraguay

 

[tortoise]

a stonish mint
a complish mint
a dmonish mint

consolidated tomato gazpacho
lightly sprinkled with a chiffonade of dmonish mint

 

[Dillinger]

The flying mint with the bubbling tattoo is as sweet as a shoe and as derivative as a crimson catapault.

 

[Dillinger]

Alas - it is but myself I am bantering with. Wherefore art thou? I have reason to believe that you can't bathe Barbie dolls therefore I think it's time to forbid entry to Fred Flintstone. Besides, my father always told me I should never banter with octagons

 

[drown]

ah,
but the banter
eludes
eluding;

in eight ways
more persuasive than the last...

you saw it.
looked it,
right in the hairy eye
and
sputtered back;

despite the fact
that you were
the last last.

your parents knew nothing;
least of which,
the other.

and you
complain?​

 

[perks]

In my mind's mouth, I eat seafood, big chunks of regurgitated politics, sprinkled religiously with sexual infatuations. BAM!

 

[Jimi]

A movable Feast, layered, finely... like a Vidalia, caramelizing in the pan. Buttery lubricity, a lemony tang of controversy, blend with the fractious fellowship to take all who wish, underground again to the Cognac caves, sniffing "le part des anges".

Heavenly warmth.

 

[Dillinger]

Ah the hairy-eyed goat bantering look is in your eyes! This is a mind's feast and a feast's mind. A sprinkled fellowship of undergrounde persuasion!

 

[drown]

"...and that,"
she said,
"predisposed the chef toward the uncomplicated
parathion."

he nodded his head,
as if in agreement.

but the cloistered elf
knew far better...

rangoon.

rangoon was the answer​

 

[theGatsby]

Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here
that old men have grey beards, that their faces are
wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and
plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of
wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir,
though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet
I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for
yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab
you could go backward.

~Hamlet 2:2

 

[sigh]

satirical rogue gray man of old
nights are oft the anger of the complete
while the incomplete consider

and gag the throat
semen in a jar
giggling froth of twinkling gasps in wonderment of the flaring match

singe butter and scream

 

[drown]

whereas
if buttered:

singed or seared...

she found delight
in small
rapacious
utterings...

none of it smooth.

pray to the
spent gods;
there was truth
in
the conundrum.​

 

[Dillinger]

Check it...

1 2 3 4

She found satirical butter
Honestly gagged like a nutter
Eyes feasting on night grey goats
But my mind wanted lemony oats

 

[Dillinger]

Reset. Square One.

I have reason to believe that you can't bathe Barbie dolls therefore I think it's time to forbid entry to Fred Flintstone. Besides, my father always told me I should never banter with octagons.

 

[Dillinger]

Satirical octagons pray and scream for uncomplicated backward throat persuasion!

 

[sigh]

octagons banter and fly
at the edge of a cliff
sitting

long fucking way down

gravity
flight
sailing
down

miscatch the butter if you will
lonely betters know

 

[Dillinger]

Fucking Gravity!
Sucks for one thing.

Ah... to be standing at the edge of satire!

 

[drown]

repels, too!

right down the fucking face
of the relativists
who still
can't surpass the speed
of television...

passed-out,
the hot little bitch
looked serene...

so, they got the
rent party
in a single shutter-click.​

 

[Dillinger]

Relatively speaking
on a quantum level
it is not significantly singular
yet it is
so to speak
so to speak
so to speak
so to
speak

 

[MechaBlade]

And before

drown

there were only

octogons.​

 

[drown]

whether
flattered
or
fouled

thems that know

know
whether
to
be
popscicle
or
licker

that said...

each eight-sided beast
has an
anterior

just as
each bean
has its stalk​

 

[Dillinger]

and I say...
its alright
its a sight!
Eightsided upside down right side upscale mountainous body of forward thrusting full motion retrospective de-evolutionalized octagonical exuberance!

 

[Dillinger]

It seems I must resort to bantering with my own octagons.

whether stalk-licked
or anterior-fucked?

A single satire of gravity's butterfly.

 

[tortoise]

some days, you're the butterfly
and some days, the windshield

today, I'm the driver
laughing at the accruing bugpaste