Calla's Sixty-Eighth Post

These are the Exquisite Corpse poems Tabby and I made. We did every other word w/o knowing what the other person wrote. Also, I am eating an Easter cookie. I made them yesterday and now I am fat because I ate like 7 today. They are really super good and really super fattening because they are butter cookies (fake butter) with frosting on them. . . and the primary ingredient in the frosting is crisco. So, now I am fat. And it is weird cause I made them shaped like animals and I always think everything that has a face is alive (even though in my head I know this is not true) but I still enjoy eating the cookies. I will put pictures of them up soon.

So here are the poems.

They do not have names.

And also, they get better as they go.

Buttocks happily melt a short tube.
Noses blankly jump blistered fig blossoms.
The frame absolutely trembled gruesome wild flowers.
Peanut butter tentically tickles lily like belt buckles.

(That one is not so good, we were just getting the hang of it. . these next ones are better)

A speckeled stomach postively censed a crunchy tumolt and bones.
Cunning rings sleepily bewilder the drenched squirrels and the lover.
The streaked chauffeur necissarily licks a broken Calla and stilts.
A farcical ribbon frankly scratches a vigourous glass and command.

(They still get better.)

The cute apples ran.
A silver sodomy clearly resorted to an orange pluto and euchatist.
A final tongue asks;
the slippery offense passionately brought around long lips and body.

The blessed forest hopes;
broad life prayfully gives anachronistic Mondays and substantives.
The whimsical cathedral waits.
Interlaced scabs meanly color a monochrome freedom and jewel.

A perfumed Autumn studies
piercing chimes lawlessly corresponding to the fierce whip of a nightmare and undersides.
An origami example sleeps.
Purple fear subserviently escapes the blatent hands of the analyses and souls.

(This next one got bad again because Tabby messed it up. He did the wrong words for half the lines and then had to make up new ones on the spot to fit his parts of speech.)

The painted blind constructs saw into half chasms.
The darkest of choices prophecies freckles into the sun.
The dark, trembling river forgets the premoridal dark bloom.
The least likley of oracles purges bread between text.

(The first line of that is actually good. . . That is the one Tabby did NOT screwed up.)

(This is the last one.)

Yellowing pillowed fingers blown above the slim clouds.
The most alive of secrets climaxes words onto crates.
A white delerious locamotive spoke from mythical skin.
The weakest of berries througs the Lord through summer.

I am not spell checking.

Here is your inanimate objects I think is alive.



This is from not this past Easter but the one before that. . .so TWO Easters ago. Tabby and I always get each other Easter Baskets. That green bunny is named Mint Car. I ate that maple syrup bunny which was maybe a little bit mean. Last Easter Tabby got me a chocolate bunny and I ate that too. It was dark chocolate cause I don't abuse cows.

Love,
Calla and her kitties (And Tabby helped)

I am not spell checking today.