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.
