Up late one night I remembered the taste of
crème brûlée marzipan pied straight to face.
They make me the fool of their fair every year.
Migrate without me.
I wake up.
They're gone.
No note.
Well, not this time.
No more mister nice guy.
Say hello to my little trail camera friends.
Oh, I've got locks, and I've got traps,
Rodenticides and oubliettes.
You think I can't capture the first footage
of how desserts switch names in coverts like exchanging sea shells?
Dirty Harry's feeling seven shots past Lucky tonight, boys.
Joke's on you,
Cause you're about to get got.
And I am positively bristling
streaked through with a peculiar spice in these adversities and verses.
Don't tell ME how I'm poised
To unlock the secret of why I've loved these sounds so dear.
They're hear!
With me, I'm telling you they've been with me here all these years so clear-
Mamma mono man jerks fiercely
on the rattatouie reins atop my hairless, spectacled pate
Oh but we do not have time to tell them-
Oh but I must! -at least part of it, foot note it-
DFW¹ does not own them for christ sake, for only
four littoral few hours ago I was writing and they taunted me
If I was sure I knew how to spell the word 'petrel', David Attenborough says
they're everywhere. What even what counts as
petrel -
you must not chat gbt but, Wikipeida search it
Now.
- pell mell clicklity clack-
Oh, okay now we suddenly know how spell 'petrel' again you coy gremlins-
"'Petrels' are a monophyletic group of marine seabirds" -
an ominous way of taxonomizing honestly,
evoking obscure shuffled groupings reminiscent of genetic trees with certain traits
that'll Baader-Meinhof
phenom you as soon as you can't not look. Do better.
So on cue harmonizing 'hydrobatidae',
northern storm. Oceanitidae, austral.
Residual Procellariiformes:
Diomede, metomophosided sea bird-ward
squacks aloft In Culture [edit] -
_"The Stormy Petrel"_poem_by[Barry Cornwall]https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Barry_Cornwall:
"Up and down! - up and down!"
She crows from the stern of her bow to her pirates crown.
"Double or nothing says Doolittle's a double agent!"
Bomberes pitch and flick off the Hornet, Steppe bound,
machines already assumed doomed
to oxidize into dust. The stormy petrel shall return
home, if such a place may be
For her who lives on the wide, wide sea.
"O'er the deep! - o'er the deep!"
Outliving the Blast and the driving rain,
The petrel telleth her tale — in vain!
It's perfect, thank you! Oh, how did you know, it's just what I needed
I'll treasure it keep it secret keep it safe
promise! For it's sweet sweet to be alive like a dog with her head out the car window amidst the
flashing and the feathery foam as we tack then
heel madly against the knowing, warming, humming
soon we'll go home, if such a place may be
in me who, who born at sea in the teeth of a gale
was sewing her own pearls for eyes
by scarcely five.
She's Scupper the sailor dog!
Hark! now I hear them -
Clanging and changing, rich and strange.
Who's she when she's at home?
Naked, grotesque, but
singing with them: "we are lonely,
loony, we are best born so, along
currents with that dreamy, dreaming music
that has the rhythm of long things swinging.
Look at that fucker DANCE¹."
I see-think, clicking on the hyperlink which now
loading, blinks,
twinging in that guilty hopeful way we wonder if the storm that bares a human name
you're hearing in news made landfall, as prophesied by weathermen
genuflecting over empty space to which
TV guys will later add a map
so viewers at home like you and me can see
the levies and sea walls most at stake.
The casters hourly ring its encroaching knell.
The on screen picture loads:
Q'est, Ding!
After his marriage in 1824 to Miss Skepper, daughter of Mrs Basil Montague, he returned to his profession as a conveyancer, and was called to the bar in 1831. In the following year he was appointed metropolitan commissioner of [lunacy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lunatic "Lunatic")—an appointment annually renewed until his election as one of the [Commissioners in Lunacy](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commissioners_in_Lunacy "Commissioners in Lunacy") constituted by the [Lunacy Act 1845](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lunacy_Act_1845 "Lunacy Act 1845"). He resigned in 1861.[1]
Oh moon men, you musn't, it's naughty.
But you know I love it when you are so LOUD.
OTHER FONT SERAPH: Callouh to you too, beamish girl.
They joy chortle adenoidally, just loud enough to almost hear.
NOW eat a snack,
the night is lovely dark & deep
Oh the miles we'll run before you sleep