Moulin Collie Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

stringing theories
into
bergamottled
receptors.....
one
who
waits
with a prescient eyeful
towers above the
potables...sways.
to
the tune
of
two forks clapping.....

on, core...on, core..........
.
let the pits fall
where they've
spread the sheets
and
made a pyre
of
the cormorant's leashes.....

the mill is floss
and
the barkers are idle....
throw us a biscuit..and we'll bay no more.......

it's gibbous...
and the chimely fauves
do tire and tremble
in the lathe....all whimsy,
are the blues and mauves...
and the bobcats behaved....

this time! !