RESORGIMENTO

RESORGIMENTO.Even as the subterfug'd correctitude,with corrosive cosmetic countenance,had defeaned his crabwise cranky crabb'd deviance,of the lugubrious earth,diatribes disenchatment dispel'd ovation to the diffusion. Dispiriting,he dispirit'd,but dispirit,he divin'd to dock this lachrymose earth.Dripping wet,drowsi'd Alupluto,a deciduous tree,deciduous to beat the drum,unto the dross aversion.And like a drum marjorette,dancing to the wiggles of the cymbals,the gallery dances,gins to woo dalliances.Much mendicant fairer than he,himself,of these ilks that play drucks and drakes with money.The golden boy,came into the city,amidst the slipknot out of the slippery slope,above the age of consent,Alupluto's exegenesis, stain to its sparsely hagiologies,much more dire than the clutters of prodigal sons'aplomb,more apocalyptic and daft of deeds of derring do than the immanent slingshots are,Naturewit that hath made Alupluto,hath slog with herself at more than dire slide, Saith that the prodigal sons hath sloppily

slinging with their catapult,slough though tarry to abate her slick,And smacks out of smokescreen,the smooched sucker and a smirch of slushfund,whose volume,stash'd away offshore,unsticks and smash'd to the smithereens.Hardly,had he vamoosed,the whimsical whipping boy,that the golden boy,with the torch of unflapable resorgimento,emerge to the warm embrace of the old greybeard,genuflecting and to him,before him,at the winnow of the oracle.Thus,with his triumphalist lungpower,this snipper smithy as ever,hoists the snippet;" Thrice gilded youthful fairer and fortun'd beckon'd than he,over whom prospects and providently,prettily counts"thus the old greybeard,browbeating the throng,snappily began its snapshot,with hands on his bald pate."the field's chief sniffer dog,not to be sniffed at,sweet above machismos,with aversion for snootiest pall and hardly sneezed at them,more spotless like alabaster than their snipes and strife are:Polity that bred thee with itself,harldly not unknown,even oracle itself at strife,to

to snoop out,thy homage,saith that nirvana,hath kismet,with thy life. Solace,thou trickish to sojourn thy solipsism,And sob's story,its douse stink to the solenoid-magnet.If thou wilt reciprocate this sojourn for the needful placate,a milliontimes wiseacres,solecitude and solidarity shalt thou belabour at strife for reckoning and resorgimento,let not advantage and boon of time slip thee unhallowed,And being set over this serpentine gulf,not cloyed thy heart,with deviance as prodigals marrooned ilks,maketh them,by beneath folks famish'd at their decrepit shibboleth,What suave stubby are thou to stymie their struts and shibboleth,making them gaunt for eternity,O how oracle speaks with esoteric dialects,beyond comprehension and stomps with pond of beguiling sports,above our tender perusal,inapprehensible,with multiple cuddles,not as a coercion,the stertorous sticks in the mud,as rambuctious sticlers,sticks in the mud,with the precedent of gross animosity and livelihood.How frosty,fall betwixt the stool,stomp

Alupluto,tis Oracle,the messenger of kismet,to the dying but grouchy plants,how dessidential folks' incensed stircrazy,eas'd cephalic index at the stirring stodgy,placated by oracle!A sojourner's day at nirvana,will an hour like an eternity,And trembling by Aluplutans,in this purlieu-brewing scumbags,sepuchral serendipidity,o pitiless boys,dissident folks call it pleasure,insentient septic tanks,scrounging the beneath civvies,schizopreniac with scholastic schmaltz,Thou a lugubrious earth's sovereign god,to do the damndest godly good at this unwraply resorgimento,Being so thawed,hegemony doth lend thee a holly hanker,Viccisitudinously,to Pluck thee,from the dungeon of ashheaps,Over this one sallow clime,a saviour the toast,to twister,this twit of pestridden fleabites and parasites,succumb'd, Under thee,o potentate coronate and viceroys,ultrasonic unmbrages in pale disdain leaden'd,They red as truant and even truce ever straying and he red for ignominy and frosty in totter,by sullen bagatelles swung beneath,

O how haste is the chaste of hoipolloi and uprising,they cometh in revenge'Instantaneously,there was a sweeping mammoth,flung swankily to Old greybeard's ovation to the consternation of the golden boy,hail him." "Long hail,the coronated!long hail the corronated!The gregarious folks,having been grown dizzy,of whipping boy swansong 's stinkers, chant,rose to ecstasy,with the herald of the squeaky clean eponymous hero.Squidgy was he of his squidgy frame,a squire from an alien stablemate,stage fright waowed first struck,but yet stagehand'd and stagemanag'd fret,wanton lie.His nimbly,hot as coals of glowing fire,risen from a spring cleaning eldorado of Alupluto's revolt and squall marshall'd by him,squash'd annals in his benefaction.The senile in reverse pelted him with tones of interrogation: "The gauntlet is scaled down and even more dire protuberances,to sloth the horseback and its ridden piggyback,Backward they pushed Alupluto and forward leaning driven propensity as he would be thrust sinew-imbued but no

10/23/2017 6:09am

t spent.let them thee".So,soon was he on his sit,as he was wooed with plaudits,Each velvet sheen sheening on their plunges and their lunges.Now doth he stroke,the throng,with his electrifying elocution,now doth he venturesome bully veracity as verisimilitude and tote browbeating and random,If thou wilt him touchstone,thy gesture touchyfeely,shall never bereft him. Peradventure,touch and go,beyond mere touchy sanctity or raptured evidence,concoct'd by oracle.This torment of torsion,he hardly burns with bashful tornado,Doth torpsyturvy,totter the the torrential musculature of his machismo,then with his windy sighs,reads his torah with uncommon piety,to ferry the dreaded tonnage ofhis passionometre,in their defence,over this lugubrious vale and now ratiocinatedbank,Senile saith that he is toothsome as the oracle,aptly tittletattled and titivated his lordshiptitle deed,what follows left to time his tinpot lashes,tintedly tinkers.Even as tilt tinge,timely ado,tires with his beacon on pinions,twinkle and karmabone

Tingling in the yonder morns,feedeth him on an impecable resorgimento,with good tidings,thumping throng in eulogy. Till either times be threnodi'd or threshold preys on him,doggone damocles:Even so,he thrifty throve his thrust,his thump,his throttle,and where he,derelicts,senile doth a new begin,Forc'd to demagoguery,but never disobliged,from its obeisance,trammeling,he pays dearly and recompense breatheth in his face,and he pays it but greedily feedeth on trammel's tramway as a trajectory on a traipse,And calls it 'apotheosis'tragicommedy',an air of grace,whose glut is as ennobled as flacid smashhit.Wishing his trencherman-like subtleties,were plates and dishes,bereft of toxins and cholesterols.So,there were dew'd his with such stupendous trenches.Behold,how tangled bird in tangled knot,cannot snap, So,fasten'd he to thestanchion,less tolerant of sedulous typos and smudged pecadillos of power voodoo,even to two-penny-half penny tyros,unschool'd its dungeon arts unspar'd,It was twitchy,twichier,twitchiest

yet he clings to damn,So,fasten'd,Alupluto's kismet lies,Sedulousness and solicitude,embroider'd in his tendon's fury and tug of war,made him not wanton fret,tub-thumping,Which bred more entreaties,in his frantic cheeks and so,hung utilitarianism with his rapturous lungpower:"O placate,"gins he"i placate thee,flint-hearted folks of this urban's frenzied sob's story,tingling tympanum gall,Tis but a pacify,implore,why art thou not stunts pull'd?Have i not been woo'd by senile he,as i titivate thee now". Even by this turpitude and direful goddess of karma,whose unruffled turgidity,in retribution,never did saddle-bow,who wasps wherever mote,she spots in every old faggots;Yet,hath he not been a potential captive by virtue of legal lordship title deed and a slave?And being implored by statutes of ado,that which burrows earnestly for wasp waisted justice upkeep and safeguard.Over this resolution altars,hath he his salvos hung,adroit with intemperate crest,hath learned to fondle townspeople emotive bank as they...

whisk discipleship,in his homage.And so,with he his apologia,for expedition unflinching,they were numbed and punchdrunk at his punchline.

APOLOGIA.And so punting,he punts he,his disclepleships for this overwhelming purgatory expedition,to quell shrimps,shrewish bitches and shtum wizards with his mercurial quiddity and quidproquo,the quills and quesiness of these harumscarum folks,at Alupluto.The rabble rouser,rankling aod pouting at power with rabid rabble,stamping his feet,to the ground and raison d'etre,for the punitive expedition,raucously and raving'gainst this league of recidivists' folks,somehow guillotine immun'd,Even still,so stamped his feet,his recherche,his homeostactic receptacle,under siege,his polychromatic dexterity engross'd,Long was he dew'd with distilling forays and vengeful spite,which prettily overflows its cartharctic bank,For to a throng pretty field ears he prunes his tales,still is he crimson,still he pommels,and prettily pommels,Being red with vengeance,they love him best,his fair immortal hands swears him dire above derringdos.Look,how stale they cannot choose but love him from that tardy path,a poltroon ponds,from

his soft bottom.And they now dreamt of usurping dickens'bespoke zombify of the city's townies and Zombies and realign Allupluto,to a paradise of equity and utilitarianism,till contending tears no more torments,which long have drain'd its floodgate,making it a refrain,until the ugly duckling's ascendancy;And with one sweet salvo,above compare,hath he them convinced,Aftermath of intense volley,his voodoo and vogues,worked like magic and he bathes them in demagoguery,unopposed.And when his lips,hands and legs,were brisky for the vengeful mission,with this rarefied volcanism vociferous at the summit,they barely wink,nor winkle.Never did the beneath civvies,envisage such enthralling winsome,like a gazebo where they put their heads,for a recess,from a stormy sun.Calumniat'd where help they see,but help,they cannot get,wherein eleemosynery,a fugitive,in their shores,for mastering his craft,not as it were,with illbred folks,but foil'd the goddess of deceit,and being bold to sport,over this wishywashy wistful plains

Whereon they witchhunt,blackmail,backstabbing and willo'-the-wisps,wimp'd underprevilled,And hisbeauty as the spring and episodes,wiggled on the indian files,doth vicariously by mutate,hourly grow,And so dew'd with wits,he spoke;"For every generation,viccissitudes,inform new verve and a fair trip,upon the green lush,be no betrayed.Dance on the sands of verity,and yet let footing be seen,and asphyxiating vermins,with waspish long dishevelled mole,at this vertiginious vertex,be expunged,from the history books at Alupluto.Expunge them,they this countryside but nomadic tribes,hibernating from the northcountry,a fifth columnists,of the bandits'raid and periodical vets. Is history so light o pity folks that upon the greens and sturdy trees,verdict it cannot give,to draw it from the hazy cloud,over his primrose bank,where Alupluto lies vertex heavy that it cannot be villified,that we should'st think it heavy,to lampoon?Is thine own kismet,to thine own land,not tied? Can thy right hand that tranquilising tranquility,

seeketh it well blossomed,bereft of fiendish struggle?"Oh,of all times,you are the worst of all vociferously nation,galled by turpitude.Then boo thyself,for out of stigma,to steal thine from them,thy hallowed freedom,And so narcissus,triggers paradise on earth,for the posterity.Thou wast begot me at full throtle,to be discipled by mine and thine to be led by mine,the road is short but long,tis cascading brook,willingly thee,to drink.Unless the struggle,with thy art be fed,upon upon the earth's fugacious field,freedom thou cannot get;for freedom springs from struggle"And so dispute,thus commenced they,a handful of the electrified throng,rose to interrogate this validate:"O tribune,thou sprinkled amaze,amuses mine gore.Vampine bats,thrive in the forest at Alupluto,and by its custom of impunity,thou art bound as they and we are bound to be led.How vapid are thou to strike there in? And titan,still bloodhounds,still persist in its hideout.Two decades of raid and bauditry".

10/24/2017 5:26am

With burning lips,did it overtake him: So,thou like mine exhumed not bathos and by mine,thou art armour bearer unleash'd,this lazy sprite of vampire bats my burrows unveil art infest northern vertex at Alupluto's Forest ;if they burn too vile,at this vale, i'll quench them first by the rear,fist by fist when they lay asleep at night and then forest batallion shalt hence strike,from its obscurity and rocky slope.Much heart felt therein,that darts forth fire though at variance doth much harm.At full noon,on the morrow,we shall by gongs and swords fire the pyromania"And so,the chants arisen,the gregarious twits,graciously anew chants;"long live the coronated! long live Alupluto!"The teeming voices thundered as he boycotted remainder duo for pending interogation.And the rabble's distending passion doth provoke,stupendous jubilation tis they dispersed the uproarious rabble,across the urban nooks and crannies.Now left with the senile tongue lashing,serving as valedictory warning;"A threesome battalion not.....

uncultured,fittest as the fiddle and first salvo must be fired upcountry,that which plays second fiddle ought to graze like vulture,north of the Alupluto's Forest and then rear salvo,nocturnal bent,making entry within lovely but desolate caves,if possible,a nocturnal annex not immuned,and be the intemperate crest,thou shalt at midnight oil burnt,evanesced and assure thee being jubilant as the old sleigh bells shalt break asunder in the grand finale,the slippery gordian knot,of the fifth columnists,their proteges the bandits inclusive rampaging dissident in the land".His raw and upright but sententious,barefaced pilloried at the senile's enigmatic sentinel and esoteric ordnance.And on his bended kness,his sum total cudgeling,sentiency plummet and acquiesce to the wisdow of the owl,with its witly responsive bulging eyes and horror voices.This gentle majesty,his cuddle embrace and so did his consumate trojan horse did seethe;"Am i not with pleasure at your side obeyed? for thou art sees as the oracle sees." And

he looks upon his love and dying breath to spank lugubrious earth.