Litlets

April 8, 2008

Poem for April 7, 2008 – The City of Od

The City of Od

Despite our best efforts, we lived
in the city of Od, with all its beauties.

Despite our best efforts, we lived
through our debaucheries, and left our livers
ranged in corked bottles on the mantle,
trophies of riot and rot. A ruddy nun
and her 14 young lovers pointed this out.
We hadn’t noticed. Purity limped from our cribs,
we kicked it off, it stifled. We all wanted
to be corrupted children when we grew up.
Our clothes are made of whipped cream
and libido, no tongue fails to wag
in the city of Od, with all its beauties.

Comments:
As you can see, I’m determined to write a fatras. I think I may have finally succeeded — but I’ve only seen one example of the form (which I can’t find now), so I suppose I’ll never be sure.

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