Maughty Feist

One person's efforts were met by another's retort. Cotton would be inserted in the gentle cleft that presided over seriousness and half-born ideas of salt, black shirts, and a sea-sung level of spite that neveryoumind, hung the bison (or like them) in a manner less-fitting that of kings, serfs, and the able rapture of tv-gawkers and their pumice-covered hands, unclean and well-liked like uncles with peduncle shafts grown over leavened land or some unpronounceable neighborhood next top-hatted ring to the sherry poff-poff or selling point rescind (all three, even barely capable to create a four cornering bicorn treat in dappled confectioner's sugar, lapping cats, measured in fits of columns unthought, stuffed, hoarded, goals scored and scorned, plates and lessons in stretching ions less, forty dollar deals, really good times spent in forensic/scenic lavatories, bullrings, bull-berry, bullocks, ball-grabbers, beer-washer-downs, olive-pinchers, and lazy gif friends); in matters in-fighting flings, dukes, sharpies, rarebit Harry, carpets clung like stalactites in a sulphuric yellow or curried phases hellfire in an onomatopoetic ring-a-ding-ding moat around the capable but cable-tethered theatre babble and brooke thereafter/she-dung, lobster pale, ready fro/to the brim, you-got-it/I-got-nothing moment of health, heath scratch, and roster the losses in a fanatic lounge, rearing its young like fawns and glens and feature-length reminders: this ain't the ain't so moment.

But?
Where was the abutment; forgo that wellness sending scent: where were we in the wheel of pyre-spinning and spools unspindly tire-wide and torts unconstituting, unclapped, uncle clap-bored, or worse, amiss here, a shanty wrought of oxides and silt, that daunting deign, auntie Reign. Things were probably a breast brethren easier before we blogged, logged, made pooping sounds, and enacted instance-defying fair weather seasonal faces. But then, in a moment of simulacrum, perhaps in the asp of breeding, you could still intone the codes that had all of us gentles breathing a symbol or thrice there-over. The detriment of newly whelp and cultural meme had a tree or two (umber beech or ash, most likely), and then the then-would fine a seal that on occasion, would gulp and reveal that symmetry, a cold shake shudder that felt the cap when the circle-8 sun would grin. Baby, it ain't your most sullen dive, but the flax and steering made for subtle touches on a side-by-side; loved that shade and well-worn wiping sound the pants would ache!