At the Tuff Donkey

After hours keep-net discussion at the Tuff Donkey
The Scene was HOT — it hummed and cavilled
I moved a couple of sections into active poise:
I always love to do that.
Agnes brings a jelly over and we rap long into the forked and heaving night.
Her thorts had grown to unusual size,
She was weary of the cobbled facts and fractured underpeelings
But what she said we’ll never really know —
It was all Shadow-Muscle and Blue foam from then on.
Oh, there were flutes and there were sabres but everything sprawled:
exceeded it’s limits
The shoals coming down like a boiling rain
All these clown heroics — time was drifting —
And the Enormous Urges eased themselves into service.
The Stick-Bride Laetitia walks down into the scooped mound, saying:
'We can sanctify but sometimes we must bury'
And the sawdust juggernaut -imperishable! stacked!
The Custard Prints as inconclusive as the facts.
Then Claxon-Bolus and the Cream marauders
Played as though the string-necked ogres of reproduction never showed.
It was a summer’s day, a water-salad, a goon-romance
Furtive and prehensile: deeply unsteady
All of us wearing the shorn museum heads of illusion and I said 'Calm Down
— Calm down for at the end of a long day —
All you need is a firm grip and an Electric hat
An Electric Hat'