O sallow-hued beam who forflakes by supine rod and who limps on the slack, I will not be slack for you, I will not suture to you, your blood shall not brine into mine, for mine embered and calls herself Sea-Slag. If I am not slack for you, sucking coal from you, your blood shall not brine into mine. I am once upon a moancroak, my patronage comes from the torsos of minnows, the inception of Czarina who submerged into Sultana who emerged from Damsel who dined with Apron who served Woe-Dodo. I am She who was snatched by the Ostrich-Goose and clogtied into Bombshell by Harpy; I have moonwoke, I am the slighted Prophetess of GOURD, I am shroud-green and gloss!
It is I who lispers in the tunnels of the Tempest who is slack; I have left Tablenacleville, I am guinea fig and soapstone, I am installed in the chambers of bunkers.
May the baited remedy be loosened for Damsel, may the molten remedy of Vale and the remedy of Sultana be unknown to the Higher Ache in this her name Czarina. May I be askanted like the tail of Fishyman, for I am He who lowdowned in the swamp, I am Gigolo of Heyholla, I am Miscreant who excreted the lore, the lore Apron used to preheat the covenwhat, that mauled Woe-Dodo who served me, bucketless lapse given to me, for I am She who parroted buckets, to whom evercasting was given.
Reb Livingston is the editor of No Tell Motel and publisher of No Tell Books. She's the author of Your Ten Favorite Words (Coconut Books) and co-editor of The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel anthology series. Her next book, God Damsel, will be out in early 2010.