they're headed for quite a cotillion,
like some contrived moondance.
Like Van Morrison ate a puffin,
and stuck his hands down his pants-- *SWOOP!* --
pulling out a pale diamond. Its scintillating
yellow glow now promises your convalescence!
Hey, you, veiled convalescence!
Hey! You gotta plan yr cotillion.
Hey..must you be so scintillating?
Yes a strained phony moondance:
a type-A mental-medical swoop.
Risk it?... Would not even a puffin?
Why not?? Teach her--to breathe out, and puff in,
take it out: the trash made by yr co-convalescence.
It makes sense. "ahh! Wait! IT'S...AHH," ...*SWOOP!*...*SWOOP!*
"There's some Pendulum there in that cotillion!"
Don't be so sensitive, dancers, my moondancers,
you'll find some answers. BE scintillating
AND understanding. Raise those scintillating
eyes up to each other's, like cute puffins.
Please, admit yr weaknesses and accept 'em by dancing moondances.
They MAY fear convalescence...
but scoop these with cotillion thrills--
those frills of understanding, like filled and painted swoops.
At first i thought, 'let it fell a swoop,'
and 'people like pain, it's scintillating.'
'orderly gardens will still be stamped by cotillions
or shat on by clouds of puffins.'
These ever can convalesce:
similarly, such is the moon dance.
It's a marvelous night for a moondance,
so can't you take one more moony swoop?
With all things considered--convalescence
will soon make it lit. Because its scintillating
sweeps convalesce and codify,,, like puffin'
convalescence into yr cotillion, and
co-tellin' moondancers, "Watch the other's stony feet.
The OTHER delicate puffin swoop," it says to you,
"Convalesce these scintillating bits TRUSTINGLY... honestly... ABOLISH DECEIT."
*published in Statler & Waldorf magazine! (RPI's literary journal)*
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