A Poem for Gid

 

Forsooth, Balcus, stand or croon,

Your landlord’s reindeer will be soon

With Gid. Paper trails? I think not,

Got Nebulae swiftly writing up

Those paper trails, come on.

Again you fander. Do not wail,

It’s been six months since you ate that snail

Love’s pounds add to your deficit

To which a bookmark swims beside your trench,

Eaten by carnivorous sea-dwelling creatures.

Milo, milo, milo, milo,

Your head is trapped inside that tree

Just stop hounding it, hound Leuconoe -

She’ll chop it off for a small fee.

You’re not very pretty.

How many clasps for the doghouse?

Heaps. The empire, or your empire, or my empire

Will fall without butter or toast

Or sandwiches or cheese,

Or greatest of cloakrooms fondling carefully

The darkness that isn’t syrupy at all

But kind of light; carry on regardless.

 

“To the State Department,” You yell orangely

At your only love, second movement;

Its fortitude thirded

Only by the swing of the cello.

Such as a forked Pharoah smiles, stunned

At his completed language device,

Other retailers cannot graph your love

As well as the average office product. But,

Turali! Turale! You love is indeterminable,

Like a genetically modified sea:

Compliant with all government regulations,

But militantly free.

 

You may ask, Balcus, once again,

Because not one of you has sung loud enough.

Busboy, nanny, driver, nun.

Caterer, writer, singer, thief.

Nullified by a raisin, drinking

Flyspray for relief.

The elocution of the eel, crossing out a month’s

Worth of pastry, pruned into an oblivious

Awkwidity, and throwing all chances of

Greaseproof delight far past the temple.

Subscribe to recant, that is my advise to you,

Balcus.

 

- GidDoctor Thutmoose, G.V.