dimple

november in july, eyes glistening in darkness, like freshly crushed flies, fourteen bones held together, by avian phlegm, when the whistling has ended, i won't stale again, slurry soul, unbearable clink, fraying through tartared chink, took the dorgi, left the dent, frozen fast in the sagging night, 4/4 of silence, 5/4 of shame, when the sneezings subsided, i won't stare again, ink-a-dink-a-dink, a-dink-a-dink-a-dink-a-doo, jutland is crooning narcrotic lorilies, awaiting command, its huge snout wedged between my thighs, ink-a-dink-a-dink, a-dink-a-dink-a-dink-a-doo, jutland is hvining while stars fall in thuds, flattening the cheek, like soft muffled scuds, tongues lick the lead lego, they won't be denied, if you're listening to this, you must have survived, my only pige passed your only dreng, in jutland's sheer city, november in july, apropolis lip to where acid-fast fly, crepey and shiny guanine restrain, while out lifting scalp, i will not glare again, took the shilling, ditched the score, frozen fast in the lowering night, in the lowering left-testicle night