by Harry B. Sanderford

Dog winged the monkey's gerdonderplonk just past ceremony. Winkle-wizzened water garglers awoke wanderjanked while apple-gated confederates slept on. Rusty pipe smack-down cancelled water lily gumbo's two o'clock and Patsy sang Crazy for the millionth time. Cart-wheeling donkey kong cougar camp visionaries lament then relent and consent. Rotty board deliverance wiggles wormy can-can hula-hoops and a dirty dozen daisies die. Woman howls moon, monkey bites Dog, man slaps clock and Patsy still crazy, falls silent.


Harry B. Sanderford, author of Dookey Earl... Pukey, Hurls!, is a Central Florida surfing cowboy who'd sooner spin yarns than mend fences.


Quin said...

lewis, we thought you were dead.

Madam Z said...

Goodness! I'm afraid to go to sleep now. Sweet dreams, Harry.

Anonymous said...

Peel me a banana and spin my tail, Jane.

Bernard S. Jansen said...

I don't think I've read anything like this before.