Um

Rotundly

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Um's bums made havoc of Um's
Own picnic table. They clapped the plastic spoons.
The flyspray addicts wiped smiles off the sun.
Swooning on the embankment of their desires
they drowned the mole of privacy.

Umself was finished with. Stuffing oozed
from Um, who writhed on the beach
in heedless concentric circles. They pulled his
spinal cord & he stopped dead.
Hats raised, for an empty cornucopia!

Shored up as it were by fortitudinal
membranes, they laid the
erstwhile Great Untained One
across the river, remembered only by the saints
in crystal buckets.

And Um was the bridge
and green were the waves
that led to the world of the piccaninnies.

Dennis List