The poem:
Negative zone daemonic hellscape riven with darkly pupating fist-smasher insectoid ravening biscuit-whifflers, bustling with eleven elven men stabbing your soul drinking the lemon-squinted drubble drink pouring out of your eyes, landing on a pad of green green grasses, waving in the windy wind while your white wallephant wails for whiskered wandering witch warrens, teeming with troubled toe tasters. Sudden shock, bursting your brain, washing your spectral dream place with acidic slime molds, seeping into every nook and cracky cranny, fusing your space holes free of webbed molecule breathing hostile bandit crafters, caustic sportsmen hammering away at the dogs of war, whipping away at the horses of sin, thrashing away at the donkeys of disdain, erasing the last remnants of spectral final tornado pulsars, turbid washboard eclipse spaniard potion doctor fraught pastor last distracting trash blaster stratus flashes burning your iris, papyrus inscribed with the diets of pirates.
Cardboard Rhino 
From \”last distracting trash blaster\” to \”diets of pirates\” I can feel some MC vibes creep in. Time to write some Fat Raps, Terber.
LikeLike
Yes, actually the reason I didn't originally publish this is because a) it makes me seem like an insane person and b) I liked the last two lines so much as a rap that I thought I might just start there and write a rap tinged by my apocalyptic visions.
LikeLike
i like rap rhyme schemes likeA A BB C C
LikeLike
Good poem, pwommy.NOT.No, actually its good. Its like other poems like it except less generic. Good use of spectral twice. The phrase \”thrashing away at the donkeys of disdain\” is the one I'd particularly like to point out.hope that helps,cog
LikeLike
Again, \”caustic sportsmen hammering away at the dogs of war, whipping away at the horses of sin, thrashing away at the donkeys of disdain\”:scary stuff, Mot.
LikeLike
There is a Fry and Laurie sketch that taps into the same poetic source as this post. Laurie is the poet, Fry the headmaster.
LikeLike