Amalthea, Amalthea, geben sie nach uns
die Zunge von unsere
S. Kay Z_______, the keeper of the kumquat babies,
tiny-footed, glass-toofed, daisy-lipped femme not quite fatale
of Normal, of Park Ridge, of Zaire, of Berlin,
of south of the bottom of Lake Bloomington,
of north of the bottom of a bottle of Glenfidditch,
of China and uf Chinatown.
Of course of now of Bloomington blooming with her
blooming booming with her perennial lilactical bliss.
Amalthea, Amalthea, bitte, bitte, Amalthea,
geben sie nach S. Kay Z________
die lieben langen Tag.
Subsection 1: Frummer formar lover
Dearest Amalthea, goat-milk almost mother of in
fant Zeus, cornucopia cornucopia corn and copious amounts
of Scotch, bless my S. Kay Z_______, protect my
Sandi K. Zee, who has travelled an ocean that does
n’t look the same as when she saw it last,
who has owned an ocean that cannot look the s
ame as when she saw it last,
who doesn’t care any more
to picnic on any shore,
let alone Lick Mickchigan,
who has sucked the cock
of a man who blew
his own
brains out seven years
after she walked out
with cat
and no clothes in hand
and no cock in hand
either.
(Amalthea, he was a trucker. A trucker, a stupid bison
a no mother-trucker
Amalthea
so don’t bless him
but rather the mouth that made him
come
to the conclusion
that he could still
make art of himself
even if it was
deep
temporal lobed
crimsundy wall art.)
Protect her from this , Almalthea, goddessss
of Capricornicarian constellationism,
and protect her from his ghost(s).
Subsec-ti-one 2: Drownding
You can bless Abner cat, too, for keeping her company,
but I’d feel butter if you made Abner into a saber-toothed Abner cat,
since her last cat done drowned in the Missisippi Rivaaah
and I hear them sabers cun swim
and she does like to float
and to fush
I cain’t be there to buoy her
Aber saber cat can.
Subsection 3: Hair disdaince
Let no one say about her that her hair
her Irish elk red hair that it
make sher less of a woman
make sure
for I say and you say
and I scream and you scream
that hair that defies cranial gravity
must constitute an extreme
sensitivity to the
andronican refusal of reality
witch must be bleshed.
Subsection 4: Tall residential staircase
Also, protect her from her staircase, Am
althea, it is tall and carpeted and
would rather be grass or clover and is therefore
out for blueuhd.
Subsection 5: Everyday innerworld idiocies
Protect her from brand names
like
“French Flair”
on sadalad dressing bottles, for Amalthea
knows no mammoth things does it
No mammoth thing do ut
no mammoth could do u(b)t
but the teeny baby’s breath
the teeny squirrel dung things
may cyphen your sentity.
Subsection 6: Icy walkways
I’malltea-ah, sanctuarize my teachar,
mai picker of words but not of nose,
my stand-stiller and my mential mutti.
Do I can’t,
Do uddi caint,
Defend her against
the gray blue white snow
that won’t stop falling
that cain’t stop falling
that gerts “stop calling”
that won’t stop falling
on her driveway
Amalthea, her bones is salted
but her sidewalk idn’t
and though the four firs look pitty
in dat snow
and on
her Vermillion River powch house
when
back when
when we came to see her
to warm our esophagi
with her gingerspice hummingbird bush water
we saw that
four pitty firs
ain’t enough to save
a slipping step
in slippity snow
Amalthea, know this.
At least she doesn’t have to care for
her pear and cherrree trees anymore.
She says they died out last winter,
Amalthea, along with the baby oak and da whippoorwills, and havint come back like her firs and her firs
t willow did
back in 82.
Dead trees means she walks outside less, Amalthea, so thanks fir that.
Subsection 7: Tragic heroity
Protect mah dear Medea, Amalthea,
against the likelunnis
that she will become
a stageid likelunnis
of a theatrical, cyclindrical mum woman
whom she has creyated
for a two hour run
Amalthea,
sie ist so viel besser aus das.
Sie brauchen Komedie.
Sie verdient so viel mehr als das
Vor sie kein Ophelia ist.
-
Sometimes I break my own fucking heart.
-
Subsection 8: Violent weather conditions
Next Tuesday, Amalthea, make sure she doesn’t end up in a hurricane again, please.
You’ll remember last year,
what with oll
the fuss in the Bahahahahahamas.
We called her “Hurricane Sandi”
in class
for a whole month.
Subsection 9: Old Age (post-menopause)
Protect this broad, Amalthea, protect her from
Her own old body
Her own old bawdy body
Her folding dermis and her glazing lower lids
Can’t handle global warming
And it cain’t handle winter, either.
Keep her bones from a-shnappin,
keep her laigs from a-shakin
and give her an orgasm
every once in a while
so she knows she ain’t dried up everywhere
like the froot on the pear tree
in her back yard.
Subsection 10: Lorraine Marie Adams
Amalthea, we adam
antly ask you to protect Sandra Kay
from the skunk of a broad
that is the barotropic Lorraine Marie Adam
s. Amalthea, A malted tea yah,
The Adams family had no idea
what they were unleashing (a-woof) on the world.
Make sure Sandi doesn’t take anything she may
say may say may say about her plays too hard
unless, Amalthea, you wish to give Sandra Kay
a blunt object and a mighty bicep and biceptual concept,
in which case she can take it any way she likes.
Subsicktion 10: Old folks homes
Mountain goating milk momma, protect our Sandi,
our S. Kay Z_______, from the hibations
of the cumulonimbic of soul, the masses of glacial paced
giver uppers and letter goers, the forgetters of labia,
the needlepointers of woodchucks and chuckwallas,
these anti-umbilicals, these cancer comebyers, shingle faces,
eaters of turkey, sunflower seeds, snolianders, and hippopotami,
talkers of postcards and the Third Reich,
and that Hepburn girl when she sang Moon River.
mullers over of gravel and of the Potomac.
Sie ist nicht so alt wie dieses,
und kann nicht sein, Amalthea, cahn nickt zine.
Sunbsextion 11: Loneliness
Du weisst und ich weisse, Amalthea, dass
eine Katchen nicht eine gute Freund macht.
Ich hoffe, dass sie mich immer hat.
Knochen brechen so liecht und immer so ruhig.
Especially the sternum.
Subsection 12: Car accidents
Good, gracious Amalthea,
we know how fast our Sandra Kay drives,
so thralm out your beauteous palm
o’er the top of Sandi’s Mini Coup.
Even the highway that holds us all
needs a little help holding Sandi down,
Amalthea.
Subsecshun 12.5, 13, 14: Bodily misfengality
Protect our beautiful Sandi, Almalalthea,
from papercuts, from hangnails, from chaffing.
Shorely, Amalthea, a full life and a bishopric lamentation
over laminated life perfection calls for
excusal from pitifully small amounts of carnage.
Amalthea, sweet Amalthea, milker of the maaaah,
kisser of the teat, saver of the king, thorger of the heat,
Bless and keep my Sandi, please,
and in that shielding, rest adgrediously, Amalthea,
and know you have halberstadtedly saved and blessed
mich.
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