Friday, February 25, 2011

The Pent Umbrage of the Tempy, Part XXXVII

You had this little treasure chest, filled with nuggets of absurdity.

Yes, these were your treasures.

In your leisure, you would take them out and look at them,

Turning them this way and that, that you would see them from every angle,

Every angel,

Every facet,

Every faucet,

Turning on the flow, or turning it off, as you pleased,

No facet be sterile or stable,

But every facet being fact, facile, fauction,

Absurd is odd, you know, in that absurd be not exacerbated.

Exacerbated absurd becomes ugly, stable, unangelic, unfacilitated.


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