He was the bastard of paternal hospitality --
pressing his pestiferous plexus over umpteen
sardined hinterlands.
salivating vociferously
above a soggy fob
to placate his rabid
hangnail.
-----
Her frequent scrumptiousness proved an ambrosial obfuscation
of his long lucubration's fruit --
"What a gizmo!" he cogitated -- immunity, taxed by
unfaltering floccinocinihilpilification.
Neither! -- and not for want of culinary rings,
nor apparatus, nor multiplicands multifarious,
do crepuscules combust. But when they do, when they must...
- Lo! Even then but for you, my slender, silky seal,
and intermittently (behold!) at that.
---
Parboil, o Greculion, parboil and perambulate,
though the sybarite of post-Hermitic times
be watching ever closer!