The bacteria are hopping around on the wire,
Flamboyent as picnic-ing pieces of jello,
And there are there are ink wells marrying fire
And there is a minute glass fellow.
A ramshackle pike who has a flobberworm,
And a hilbilly sword who likes to clean,
And i made a net of stardust that's warm,
And I'm getting hypothermia touching its sheen.
Flabbergasted windows feed on holes,
And certain fragments of wind slam heads,
A dude is atomic poles,
And a piece of rambunkshus bed.
What a strange aray of things,
And many demented people too.
And confusing are the murmurings,
Of the people who people who read with you.