Words, by bob brown  (Page 2/5)

Nipped

By the vicious mind of a

Flare-eyed China-toothed Nipple-dappled

Wide-flanked

Back -biting

Heel-tossing

Hell-fire

Explosive

Back-firing

Pinto pony

Wild-maned

Montana Mare

Like you

(microtext)

Is not serene

In the Dome

A perfect composite of

Lord Byron and

Elliot with the accent on the George

And I have gazed calmly upon the

Sphinx and Mona Lisa

Yet tremblingly I tiptoed past

The Dome Duplexity

Without fluttering an eyelash

The passion play at royat

There is no great gulf between the Love life of the Dogs in the village street of Royat and Other dogs or even human beings Only a subtle distinguishing finesse of Full-blooded frank expression. With Royat dogs springis always here

Hope lurks forever

Just around the next lamp-post

They bark and bite, snarl and scratch

Purr and piddle, play ceaselessly at Fornicopulation

Even as talkie actors in gilt ritzyrooms.

But the dogs of Royat never think of

Pulling the shades down or the sheets up Openly in public they purify their bodies Fornify themselves happily

Against the rigours of a cold world

Grinning with dripping red jaws

Wagging lively laughing tails

Enacting the commonly recurrent functional Momentary crises of existence

Out in the middle of the street

All day long industriously rehearsing their Realistic Passion Play in public

Looking down a little on their peers Saintly solemn Oberammergauers and other Formal puffed-up pallid passion players Who,like barnyard roosters Piously await the Peal of the Angelus Before paying their Pompous duty calls

(microtext)

Boulevardearie

gants

pants

louisquince

your

pants! louey

your

gants! cants

Armed hospitality

Down haunted horridors

Asceptic nurslings wriggle Balancing bed-pans

Brandishing hastily-snatched

Baby pink catherters

Burying their blazing cheeks in the Public dirty -clothes bag

Hiding behind lavatory doors

To lure into hot pursuit

Scalpel-eyed satyric internes Practicing interment

With one obsidian brow

Lifted for the Main Chance

And the other

Well up the Main Hatch

Assisting at Caesareans

Making vermiform appendixes squirm Helping stitch up livid belly seams Forgetting surgical scissors inside. Clanging through town inhelmets

Astride brass-lunged ambulances Courageously picturesque

Volunteer Out-snuffers of The Eternal Fire

Poking probing fingers into All too human apertures Bringing yowling Babes Rosebuddy and blisteredInto this drab dripping Wood Turning them up to impulsively Talcum their mucilaginous mucosities Daintily dabbing the bawling bastards Withdemi-rouge compacts Inadvertently slipped from Viscous concealment by Nuzzly Leda-necked goosey nurslings In their paroxysmalSpasmodic scurrying Down haunted horridors

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The goosipers are

Conking on the corner

Scanning the air

Spanning the air

Piercing clouds with

Hypodermic noses

Ajiggle waiting in

Cock-eye-strained eagerness

The snowy arrival of the

Aerial opium

Pigeon squad

Harry crosby

Freshly-new, mentally-lithe

Sound, cleanly-sane

Sportsman in Life

Eager modern art experimenter