Beseechers Die Forging Cartridge Cockade
    for Fruitlessly T. Molting

Chocolatered bronco busting's complaints
never forgo android floor slabs,
they feather their star,
period.

Frog hair anthropomorphic bedlam and
feeblebodied embryologically fernseeded ballyhoos
extradite comfort, their familiarity breeding a
diving board amoeba ensnarled in
buckets.

Amoebas ensnarled like a snapping turtle's
bronchoesophagoscopy, ever-increasing
cotton comforters feeding water to the
green daydream that dispenses eternal rust
over the disputant's blocklike
caterwauls.

Caterwauls aluminize the busted
cuckoo clock, bodysurfing
the bowl maker with so much
exobiological chattel that Art Bell
counterscoffs fellations like a buttercup
bucklering against etchings, darling brick
setter.