A spearmint wind speaks my name to darkness,
\n\u201cLet us make her think he wants her, desperately!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLamb impaled upon lettuce?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLet us traaaaace it all back,\u201d eyes drool oily spice
\nas lust inverts its greed, hot to the mind of myth.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo foolish be Persephone to escape the dead land!\u201d
\nit snarled, slithering in mephitic stench.<\/p>\n
\u201cMurimuria needs a queen.\u201d agreed a mindless mole,
\n\u201cLettuce! Stay in the present day.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cVegan moth balls in a light chimichurri,\u201d offered an
\noverdressed snail of kitchen funk, its slime melting
\ninto the verdant pool of sludge.<\/p>\n
\u201cIf Earth2Joy becomes herself, I cannot consume mankind!\u201d
\nit rasped, \u201cSo, tell me, top one, did she accept?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, oh gloriously fetid one, she declined,\u201d sighed the mole,
\n\u201cFortunately, I was unable to convince him to attend either.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe cannot approach, she cannot approach!\u201d squawked a one eyed parrot,
\nhanging upside down from a volcanic arch.<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that, Noshbag! Om Namo Shivaya!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOnce upon a time! Once upon a time! Squaaawk!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhite chocolate covered crickets in a short moose earwax cr\u00e8me anglais.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShut up! The script is written around the premise of her grief!
\nThe Oracle of Delphi says she will find him. She shall approach him,
\nthinking he sent her those stupid love songs.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd then? And then, oh putrid one?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe men in my pocket will take her to ….\u201d<\/p>\n
“To the funny farm, where life is happy and all is gay,<\/em> Credit “They’re Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haaa!” by Jerry Samuels, 1966<\/em><\/p>\n The white ferret shall chase its tail around a black and gold pillar. “Shut up! SHUT UP! There is no funny farm!” he snarled, \u201cUh, excuuuuuse me, oh great pestilence of earth,\u201d choked the cock \u201cSo\u2026.?\u201d It hissed.<\/p>\n \u201cTherefore, you have no pockets.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAltoid, anyone?\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A spearmint wind speaks my name to darkness, \u201cLet us make her think he wants her, desperately!\u201d \u201cLamb impaled upon lettuce?\u201d \u201cLet us traaaaace it all back,\u201d eyes drool oily spice as lust inverts its greed, hot to the mind of myth. \u201cSo foolish be…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":189,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,441],"tags":[1614],"class_list":["post-133418","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem","category-poetry-prompt-responses","tag-fantasy"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133418","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/189"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=133418"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133418\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":136559,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/133418\/revisions\/136559"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=133418"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=133418"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=133418"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nhoo hoo, ha ha, hee, hee, ho, ho.”<\/em><\/p>\n
\nAs above, so below. So it is, and so it shall be.<\/p>\n
\nwings ablaze in dragon fire. “There is no farm! Anywhere!”<\/p>\n
\nemerging from a broken marble throne, \u201cyou wear no pants.\u201d<\/p>\n