most apple manna
My riff on Ms Gertrude:
[i suppose it needs a title]
i have no idea no idea my name is bonet i have no idea and no ideas have me I am so being had by the no ideas in my head, erupting Vesuviuses that prolong the barge down the misery Rhine of backpedaling indulgence. The Pope was a vision before she was ever a Pope, with her fingerlilies and Tidy Bowl pancakes all up & down the liquid Versailles. Camouflage my pains, cried the quiet goose, lamentations in the principal's office, before the sturdy Board. She asked if we were Maximus - do we look like a movie?, we cried. Do we have the yellow cloaks necessary to bisect the obtuse angle? Visionary coffeeshops, truculent beasties eating the apple people who squire away all my lasting memories. I cannot think what could possibly come next, my name is bonet i have no idea . . .
[One of the minions, when given the "prompt," predictably responded with "i have no idea." I used her as my prompt, changing her name to protect her innocence.]
Labels: voodoo chile