dill-po-ems

Sequence: Sunday Afternoon

Lupine, astrolab, butterscotch; it's a picnic, see?
On another front: lobe-chill, legit. I agree.
You need to dab that swab with blood, grass
stains our sweet knees, full frontal lobe, no? Asshole.
Or dole out some melon already Mindy's getting sick.
Lupine, astrolab, butterscotch. Popsicle-stick.
Stick of gum: Mandy's munchin muffins, Dane's eye broke.
Lock the car, Sid! Let's get at some hokey-pokey.

**********

Slideshow

We were fishing.
I meant apples to grapple the meaning,
she meant pears to swear her hearing's
berzerk, gone.
I married a deaf woman but forgot.

We caught a swallow and named him Hank.
The apples were ripe, and thus she spank.
Now Hank's gone south
and all my mouth's
the month of May, slippery, shining and swank.

Bananas are bait when waiting's worn thin.
We ice-fish (cooled heels), eels and clouds spin
another yarn for us;
for us,
the hill shivers and makes plain.