A Fond Farewell


Dear friends. Long after the wailerís grief has been wetcounted and the noorstwhile hammering din has been paid in paltry debominations, the cold heart steel bends when you least bespect it. For this poor man it is the same, debunked of plenty, thrown away his tie. What seed have we here, what pilgrim returning with his talespeaking bag of buttons, to say he plowed the hallowed ground? Casketizing smile, never tip his hand. Talkawhile then feeble talksomemore, hot snot what you believe, but who you noo,
very much God bless ya.

Met me tool some wettle stoory. How it ends, began. Nod again. Bettle met we tell it. Hahaworthy at twice the price, the daring pooblic spooker. Go and dry your pies. Same as no one knew im. So says Ecclesiaster, no mew things knee deep the sun. Refund the bootle, the fisherman was right. Give Rome Romeís dew, fear not your tithing pain. I know whence whereof he spaken, the rooster thrice becrewed. Believe it! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, seven for heaven, we all know when to cry. Sit up, deadworthy, weíre leaving by and by. Conjure ye the many? Steal ye the proof?

As luke whathaveyou, the dead man stod and said, Notwhile Aym aroond. In notime yool bestinkin, as glory makes the roonds. Yea or nay, Ayd bet my last stoot oonit. Lick ipon yer smiles, yer tencent muddy giffers, yer darnbespattered boots. Thoonk not Aym a kitten, foor Aym doodly fearious.

Sawing this, the groovdiggers demented overtime. Uh worriedwon said, No blame a his, but noo is come the rhine. Hear the mooldy clatter, the tent is cavin in. Whereís sweet Jesus when we needim? Fishin in the strim?

Then wherewithals the dood man sittled dawn. Soory, mates, said he, Ay noo Ay dungeon wrong. Too moony hollowpenny pippers, thatís the unblessed trooth. Go about yer diggin, but mind my brandnew suit.

January 10, 2006










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