6: Spy Pond Chronicles

Nudge me, Prosper, out of these dank thicks!
Sound me a selah, round up a blessing.

Recover. Breathe. Tell the beads.
Recall Reverend Peggy,
her horseradish wit,
her martini smile.

To thole. To endure.
Where’s my letter, Miss Sheila?
How is Heather doing?

Apple juice, my starlet! My miracle
of a thousand Burger Kings.

Obstreperous doxy
of a fading September,
I’ve got bills to pay.

You know what’s what, Sexton Jones.
Don’t muddle the vestry.

Connive to make glorious lumps of lingo.
Shelter against the muggies,
sing the four-letter serenade
to loutish bursts of rain.

Thunder me, Anselmo!
Shrive me, Brian!

Make friends with Vermont,
frigate about the shallows.

What’s the frequency, Emily?
Who pilfered the mushrumps?

Dance till your nerves cry Uncle:
there won’t be a sequel
to this chick flick.

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