187

LIKE UNTO LACK

Suffer the little children to come unto me
And I will not say creepy things like suffer.
But all around. But inside me. But anyway.

Flog the glommer!
Reset the tesserae!
Chew the witch!
Medicate the delicates!
Bleed the dweeb, sing gneiss!
Capacity crowd, dowse for tapas!
Society, dote on tedious soda!
Many thoughts, sink cans! Ghosts, yawn!

O porous saraband,
A plausible trinket divests me,
Like unto lack.