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Oingdingdah

By Wil C. Fry, May 28, 2000, 21:15

Copyright © 2000 by Wil C. Fry. All rights reserved.


Tah, tatah ta Enga     enga teh teh tata Enga
I think a beer might calm me down
You think?     I am Zebra turd, stripéd sh*t      Floating smoking shaking
Rhythmically     smiling ghost of pale fabrication     Growling     oingdingdah
Inhale     Exhale     frightened night     turning key in lock     as the shell
implodes     Smiling face of Jefferson on glass table     Burning charred
cherry  fingers  and  smoking
Growing grass on your tongue as your mother lode bleeds
Oingdingdah     Oingdingdah     Oingdingdah     Tata tata Enga
Ta   Ta tata tatah Enga     Oingdingdah
Smelking shivered bones and hair while demons investigate
Standing on end of hair     zorga zorka     melda meldon gras baul
Honta Honta sabonta     ragdag sloort     breathing heavily
and cramping bending leaning breathing     ahh    ah    ahh    oh. . .     Ungh.
Thank God, I’m back.
I think.     Take another drink and I’ll be okay     No more hopping around, I
promise, I’ll be good     Take a deep breath.     I’m okay     I’ll be okay     I’m
alright     go away.     Whooh.



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