Sometimes I untie, and unloose, and unwind the chains.
The large, fluorescent purple comes out to romp.
Oh, my, she plays like a wild moose with nine legs!
She throws words around like the spasmodic fireworks
of stars which dance when you lie in a mountain meadow,
and you overheat in joy with mouth steaming, swallowing
all of the refuse of a god with too much good to go around.
But there were too many collect calls from my lonesome Jack.
Collect call, Carl, will you accept? Nope. Not today.
Not anymore. My buddy Jack Daniels is mute.
He is poison to me now. No more Jack, but wow,
did he ever do a job cooking up the purple lady who plays!