A use for celery

Celery is impractical
and the drained antelope keeper has a cold belly button
witches are never supposed
two beasts are looking strangely at me
and the fat Welshman gropes at his head’s preponderance
in never, never, never shall it be said
that was hairy and warm to the touch supposing
just supposing
the hedgehog really knows the answer.

Ancients crippled and bristling with tongues tried too much
to brush and burble like pregnant fishcakes
to be eaten only, but only when undead
are walking in my trouser pocket like, as like
was knotted in severe laughter.

“Shall I eat you,” said the herring’s weeping eye
to be drenched in raspberry dribble, dribble, drool,
drowning in my own breadcrumbs
and waiting for leeks to be plugged, or unplugged
“Shall I put the kettle onto the veranda,” I said, more in hope than in expectation
but the answer came;
“No. Use the celery.”

 

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