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Quirk in Progress (Forewornd)
Adeadendum
Tird Instoolmount
IIII
The Questing
The Wake
A Wholeman
Raptured and Soulomio
The Censorest Forum of Fraudery
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The Wake
Eye two half a questing,
four aye tow aft an ocean to sea the see.

And farest I shell admate I need scullering
(if not brinewashing or mindsweepering) fore aye, aye mast and wheel tack hold of waterver I dockside to dhow, whariver I repier mysailf.

"Sheet," side a nadir who zenith the zee,
"yaw questings shore mate keel yawl!"

"All hands it to you," I plyed,
"your barque east west than your boat."

"Frigate," he side,
"I'd rudder ketch helm from her warship and tiller tanker ferry marsh than heave to skiff my launch. These buoys showboat to drink moor than you canoe. Ship."

Such eddyatsea was tipsical
of my marinated carear, admiral though it was from tide to tide—it baysickly was a west of tide. The faillows on my crude were like sheeps that piss in the night. I couldn't wet to leave the hull thing haul alone. And yacht a seed of my firmer life remans.

As a semen I sought diply
on the neapshore of dings and aft I leaked to the fixed stares of the naut sky for predecktion and prowphesea, as I trawly beleave the starboard of the Grate Prodicer and the scrapts wrot there for ill to sea. The good Goad has set his ploynets on their curses and they are hours to deceiver. Moony code knots I stowed wash stoodfastenated.

The Seen and the Moan were my Fader and Mooder;
Mockery, Vainass and Marred were my sublinks; Jewpater and Sadturn my big bothers and beyond the kin of the vistable to the kindom of telescoptimists we finned Uranus, Naptime and Plotto. The Grit Consternations, or Sins of the Zoodiark, the Howsays, the oddpositions, squeers and conjinxions, the numbrous choruspundances of the heavily-bodied, lifted me spinnakering like a tops'l.

I trined to adjustify my lifeline with the steers
and nodeless to sea, it freighted the ship out of me.

Scarred to doubt by my occulpt nailedge of the fatesure,
prevealed not in a glaze of bleary but the indespiteable certaintease of mythametrical chalkulations suffercient for the eracktion of the harrowscrape, a plowerful toowell for the horospexual presolution of probelambs and ruemantic and finantic obstickers. At last I lowkited my Fierced Hoarse Moan in Scarepio which means I can be whoever I never really wanted to be without my even knowing who I'm not.

With that intunitive roleization
I walked the plank down the goneway, through the navigate and laughed my sealeggs on the poopdeck foriver.

And now soliteary and kithless
in the brig seedy—no Moan, fool Moan—this guy is always block and cloddy and the stairs are fearboaten. But seemthing reminds "with every brave that wakes/over live litter in the strand," and I too wake soddenly to the greeter life fare boat a shored moonment and jest as sunkenly blackslide to an oceantic, dip and drainless slip.

Rig Oarman, with Astraloddjoke addvoice from Wreck Omen, ghestwriter,
Marsh 1990


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