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He Said Dacha, She's IT knights in icebox--pique populi to bits, mi casa roca--happy this morsel that ate a puss before jump- cut to bootblack my flakes once frosted--foyer soaps bowl soft, puffs I lent curly-q, being bred for entrap- ment go on ahead, poor tout & laugh elastic--a nexus formally known as unknown, this cistern boasts, knocks allures yet spots no cigars in clothes your eyes cast under bailey's dun locks bows on hospital corners round which come- uppance pony trots attendant (set & match) a sea tucks ado as much her story as his to adore me, emu must sing the blues up- state, twice over hand to mouth while fibula's whore moans van ronk tunes abridge the gulf with ribs to spare hammers, toes trips down more lighter owed than suite hotels if truth's booty--babe in sugar-- rues the day behind your own back--well let them eat crow pie then sleep or slog it off, split the diff in tarnation a la vasectemy & blow indiana's top up or over the kitty. sadie's credanza may be hocked but toney the nosebag's not speeding on the side streets now lest blinds drawn to beans are old in dirty jelly (7-cum-11)--aw no, don't shoot up the dealer, recycle or dich her, nor bait me like that doc, no matter what-- Candice Ward (6/28/02)