Simpering Siblings

 

I was just sensing in the segmentations of silica subcultures.  I sat there with my engraved  random thoughts on these dolomitic stones.  Just sticking up along the walkway in my training area.  I hop.  I hope.  I skip.  I skype.  I jump.  I want to juniper berry, I mean bury, the world of condition that my contrition was in. 

I realized that our President is setting the Heat Wave.  A Catastrophic Heat Wave.  He sure is a Deep Veined Trombone, Sis.  But, Anna, your name spelled backwards is Anna.  And you just told me, Bob, my name spelled backwards is Bob.  But I am Robert.  And that spelled backwards is Trebor.  You keep calling me Dennis, which spelled backwards is Sinned.  I am not backward Sinned.

We keep arguing that verses agreeing verses makes me hungrying verses hollowing with my crying verses greedying which is definitely not a greeting.  Oh, you are Argue a Bull.  And that certainly is some Cow Plots.

I have to get across to you I have a nose problem.  I always thought you had all snorts of problems.  I know you think you are a  pro fem.  You just try to take my nose off, that’s my problem.  And your nose, like your life, sure blows.   That, sis, is your problem.  My nose keeps observing your problem, everywhere I turn.

And, another thing, I’m sure not as fat as I used to be.  You think you’re not Fat.   Art you?  You’re nuts.  You are fat.  You are tubby.

But then you tell me “You too!”

And was that really,  “YouTube?”

Think about it, I’m not as fat since I used two pies.

Oh, that last election.  Now there is No Taxation without MisInterpretation.  He just keeps telling all of us, and that is US, “Blood on Hue, Bludgeon Huge, I will build my Bulge on You.”  And I realize that he really thinks we all are saying, “Kill Me, Will You?”  And he feels that,  “It’s in our Will so he won’t get it until we get Killed.”

I just want to say to him, “Tell Me!  Tell Who?  Tell them your Hue. Not that You are Due.   Then, I will tell them I am very Huge.  In the past I would be called a Huguenot.  So, are you  French?”

And he will answer,  “ No, I am stale.”

I will respond, “Victor E Huge Or Not.  Pierre Allix, at Alencon and Latex.”

But getting back to you, sis, “The Handmaiden we Borrow.  Or did I mean ‘that we Burrow?’  Anyway, she sure looks like a Burro.”

And sis said back to me, “Don’t you know?  She was  initiated from the unknown, from the first lie.  Look at her burritos.  Those toes sure hoof me!”

Which caused me to react, “A poke on my toes sure makes me a lyre.  I lied  that I played all day.  Day Light, Day Bright, the first Clay you’ll seesaw tonight.”

She then just gave back, “You  look like  somebody put their stanch to your nose.  Well, that same somebody, you must have put your toes to their nose.”

I asked, “How did you nose that?”

She told me, “I was told that the nose can symbolize our sense of self wisdom.  But my scents definitely are not expensive.  There is no cents in that.”

I gave her my explanation, “One celestial nose had stared up at those snubs.  If only it were stars instead of stares, then at least he could take the stairs upward to the Aurora Borealis.”

That caused her to  poem to me:

 

“ Meteor flight, Meteor fight,

  The first war I die with fright;

  I miss my days, I fish at night,

  I hate the bliss you get from spite. “

 

               So, I said to her, “You think you are such a comet.  You think you just knocked three times on my space craft traveling towards celestial silicates.  You want that asteroids to just hit me twice and their remnants won’t glow.”

               Sis then replied, “With you it is always My Pronouns vs Your Anti-Nouns!  I just hope it is not something our Auntie Known.”

               I asked her, “Sis!  What do you think I am?”

               And she sung out:

 

                              “Garbage-Man, Garbage-Man

  You do whatever a Garbage Can

  You hold those bags, any size

  You think you catch bees, but they are just flies

 

  Stink out

  Here comes the Garbage Truck

  Is your smell that strong?

  Glistening me out of luck

  Your snot is a rapid detracting hood

  Can be sting from your head?

   Looks like a snook, oh such lead

 

   Beware

   where goes you, Garbage Man

   In the smell of your flight

   You’re what seems just like slime

    Like a freak with a blight

    You’re worth less than a dime

 

    Garbage Man

    Garbage Man

    We know you are here when we hear your Can Slam

    You’re full of such brags

    And speak such lies

    You think you have friends

    But they all are just flies

    Poop out

    There throws your Garbage Scams

    You’re just a Garbage Man.”

 

                                                            I hope you had some fun reading this                                                                                                            I hope I have some fun with you reading THESE