Yes, but we are all human.
Humble commune, sludge, the nudge
the nether end the bend
of citrus trees, and sit us down on wed
rocks wet rocks granted
granite smudge. Fountains
bluebs, bluebers, tubers, roots. Coots magoots.
Soof, the roof, the underage belly
of the gub-gub, float me on the rim of a straw hat,
mad and maddering, nattering,
bedlam. That's a pink cupid, boogers. Botterboom,
the room next to the room, the tomb of Natamycin. Doom and gloom
and thanks for the flowers, stank up the hallway made my lettuce
taste like pollen. Falling into ceremony, hegemony, ruthless good.
A good broom used to sweep the moon,
the neat, the knap, the grappling tumbling back. Have to pack.