[In this one the derision is milk staggered with soil and I am in question as intelligentsia bewildered in dust and frayed velour]

Ellen Boyette

Bray did the colts as the fanfare was abrupt, the neutered dogs all lost to flowers and sellers of flowers gone to the graves.
Longing in this case being impertinent to the garment, I took out my breast and said in truth I was hoping for coral to crush into sugar.
And meant that a witness smite me dead on the scene, a witness of that to avenge the wrongdoing and an etcher of rungs to ideally go free.
I was not smote and caw did the crows for the gutter pastries aglow with maggots and eggs of maggots speckled with glaze. 
In this one the wheel could not turn and the turner of the wheel lay down with the maid. 
To him she said nary a man would buy a Chevrolet and he said yes the rain shall fall upon him yes she said the end.  
In this one the women performed contortion and their spines became elastic, plaster fell and they made a very beautiful statue garden.
For whom would I lay my cherry on the tomb. For whom. For whom. For whom all the livelong day for whom.
No I could not be so wise as to procure myself a duplicate, nor carve my name to oyster marble, nor pull a tooth and bury it. 
For that the verdict shall be no fewer than sixty revolutions of the earth to suckle the sharp end of the compass ‘til climax or death or both.