calisthenic 1, week 11

Virgin Lies

At the war, I was about to penetrate him dazzlingly when,
at furry parades, men abound
and dizzily from me, he twirled first
to his blue buffet
and then the obese, and he was satisfied,
sweetly before he sauntered the...
My teacup flew him rolling, too,
and a bastard, who yawned over.
He was a scary gorilla, purple,
glazed, chewed pancakes during the day
and his brother and mother
at night. He didn't skateboard
or try to master the pantomime
with which he wrote these elegies.
My toaster said: "Happens." Our crow
stalks half-heartedly to his sandbox
and was soon set towards us
with his special. feature,
of which he was inadvertently 
but so far only used to select two round scenes.
It was the pause
we'd usually call to rewind slowly a movie.
A subtitle, a muted audio, you taped
where he, or she, filmed. Our cinema
looped a feed
beside the popcorn
and we sang him soothingly.