The gentle Indian man disliked flyswatters He would let an imprisoned fly find an outside exit Helping it escape on his mantra which seemed almost holy, "Dear Fly , Fly!"
Sometimes a disturbance feeling like a runaway chariot rumbles round and round and down and down and up and up through the deep valleys of his belly... causing him to expel a half-digested sugary pastry and a couple garlicky olives...
while failure soon attends the muffling of explosive rearward cries ... often in distinguished company
Miss Hope loves to stand on her head Even though it flushes her face so red A dog lover who couldn't be merrier She lives only for her toy terrier And on her head greets this tiny purebred