come all you story readers
be you young or be you old
to the land of sir dolly dimple
were fairytales unfold
not so far away
and not so long ago
lived a boy named dolly dimple
and a horse named dynamo
they lived in a land of tyrants
were fear and greed was bred
yet this boy called dolly dimple
had a halo on his head
he grew to be a decent man
big and brave and strong
he rode the land on dynamo
to put right all that's wrong
he rescued damsels in distress
he put dragons fires out
he made the land a safer place
he was loved beyond all doubt
yet as he grew so famous
so did the boy next door
the wicked tyrant gordon
did evil deeds galore
now gordon was a wicked boy
who grew to be an evil man
to undo the good deeds dolly did
was gordons master plan
now gordon hated good sir dolly
ever since they both were boys
cos sir dolly quite by accident
broke one of gordons toys
so gordon kidnapped all the princesses
and locked them in his tower
to grind down all the corn he grew
and turn it into flour
he crept into peoples houses
to steal kids from there bed
to work in his bakeries
to turn his flour into bread
then he sent out all the orphans
to work on the street
seling his bread
to the people they,d meet
then he bought up all the houses
with the money he made
and doubled the rent
that the poor people paid
now everybody panicked
shouted screamed and bawled
till someone suggested
the mayor should be called
now the mayor listened carefully
and when he heard it all
he picked up his phone
and gave sir dolly a call
he quickly told sir dolly
what was going on
on dolly said dont worry mayor
i,ll be right along
so he dressed in his armour
loaded his pop gun
climbed up on dynamo
and his good deed had begun
he rode up to the tower
scaled the walls of stone
peeped into the window
to see the princesses were alone
when he saw it was all clear
he climbed into the tower
and made a big rope ladder
from the bags that held the flour
so sir dolly and the princesses
climbed down to the ground
and he took them all home safely
except 4 one he found
she was princess of the orphans
princess clare was her name
sir dolly fell in love with her
princess clare felt the same
now sir dolly had a mission
he knew he must go alone
so he dropped off princess Clare
at the mayors home
princess Clare  told sir dolly to take care
he said dont worry i,ll be back
with the wicked tyrant gordon
******* in a sack
so he rode off on dynamo
to the bakery door
so he could free all the children
so they could sleep once more
he kicked down the door
took off every chain
rode them all home
and tucked them back in bed again
then he rode to the orphanage
and hid in bushes by the gate
he knew gordon would come back 4 the kids
all he had to do was wait
first thing in the morning
just as it got light
he saw gordon coming
so he jumped out of sight
sir dolly shouted gordon
we meet again at last
i,ve come to punish you 4 all ur crimes
ur evil days are past
yet gordon was so quick
he turned and as he fled
sir dolly pulled his pop gun out
and shot him in the head
all gordon cud do
was fall with a shout
as the cork from dollies pop gun
quickly knocked him out
so dolly tied gordons hands up
tight behind his back
then picked up evil gordon
and dropped him in a sack
he put gordon on dynamos back
tied him on with his tail
rode him back to town
and threw him into jail
now the whole town cheered
and shouted dolly,s name
and gave him a medal
for stopping gordons evil game
now princess Clare
gave dolly a big kiss
and everybody cheered again
and not long after this
sir dolly and princess Clare
became husband and wife
and lived happily ever after
for the rest of there life

O the mustangs stung like mosquitoes,
fast as lightning & thunderbolts,
liberators & fortresses,
hurricanes & tornadoes,
hell cats & bears,
invaders & dragons,
good grief Lord,
those mighty Gordons!

O wily foxes & quick lancers,
avengers & vindicators,
swordfish, barracuda,
some tuna, albacore.
Gladiators in the gauntlet,
zig-zagging & spitting fire,
spewing molten hot-lead,
bright-tracers in the night,
forever fighting
with their all their might,
bombing their daylights out
and into submission,
la morte, stone dead.

O they sank the Rising Sun,
'cause they had that *****,
battling against all wrong
& protecting only
what was right!

Where are our Percys, Johns and Gordons gone?
The rock and pop stars
Of words worth remembering.
We'll never shake them off
Like today's, washed up
On the shore of MTV,
Bleeding on the carpets,
Crying maybe baby.
I'm gagaing.

the motto: a healthy body, a healthy mind...
fair enough...
can the healthy body tell me
where its palette is?
  just asking... can this mind over mind mantra:
this... no one likes a pickled brain...
a healthy body equates to me:
a mind reared for learning - sponges and
syringes...
does this "healthy body" desire...
alternative tastes?
blue cheese? trout caviar?
              oysters?                          haggis?
out of curiosity:
or does... keeping around a play-thing...
third person addressee...
hard to miss it: an "analogue" i that keeps
refering to the "deus ex machina" like
it's not exactly "in it"...
    healthy jog: except on concrete...
sure thing boss... on a patch of grass...
who said that jogging was good on cement?
i swear tires and using it as sandpaper for
the rubber: weathered: withered: weathered:
he loves me... he loves me not...
russian roulette of plucking petals of
a sunflower...
the last time i had... a pornstar body...
i started ******* girls that had tattoos in "random"
places... ha ha... "random"...
signatures of the madame...
   i was... her... dragon... on the right...
shoulderblade...
because that's where my chernobyl scar is...
"random": oh so "random" tattoos!
the next time i go pornstar full body
b.d.s.m. latex... i will not **** the next mosquito
that lands on my body and i pretend to be
sleeping... i will not pancake it...
flies... earthworms... all these creeping bogus
investigations of the telescope for "alien"...
i can spare...
even spiders... even though i have a tease
of arachnophobia...
but mosquitos? i'd do the impossible...
don boxing gloves... and pinch it by the testicles...
with both...
healthy body = healthy mind...
   more like: a healthy body ≠ a mind that does
a whole lot of thinking...
you need the pickling juices for that...
    Jean des Esseintes eccentricities... "familiarities"...
last time i would hear a rhetorician
from a man that was also able to run a marathon...
i'd play muahmmad: and she should play:
the whispering angel gabriel...
a healthy body = a healthy mind...
i don't believe in the existence of a healthy mind...
a mind of either blank...
an ape-**** hollow mind, yes...
      what's my favorite echo-chamber?
i tend to should these words into...
the echo-chamber of solipsism...
          the mild-reflection on clinical altruism...
since: i wouldn't call the autistic flash-gordons
of this world to have a fulfilling
desire to: build on the concept of self...
         such that it already is... devoid of...
all the temptations...
crass words...
but would a healthy body please tell me...
the concerns for the palette?
blue cheese... oysters... caviar...
very piquant flavours...
  what of... yes... haggis again...
   what of... pancetta... what of...
                  mushrooms: honey fungus...
marinated in oil and white spirit vinegar?
what of fenugreek pickles of the raj?
what of all the plethora spices of the indian cuisine?

a healthy body = a healthy mind...
when... the body is subjected to healthy "exercise":
work... workhorse labour...
to hell with exercise! exercise "fow foon"?
that's cheating you of the healthy body = healthy mind
duality... hello... h'allo hamster on the wheel!

last time i had a pornogrpahic movie body
i had the "privilege" of ******* women:
who had tattoos in the "wrong" parts of the body...
bullet-point markers...
i was... memorable... a dragon on her right
shouldblade...
something much more diabolical concerned itself
with much of her arm above the elbow...
the gateway ****-boy who she alleged was...
an older man and she was kidnapped for money:
just your atypical russian harlequinn novel...

a healthy body...
  how about... an inquisitive palette and a pickled
brain... i don't expect much thinking is allowed
when the body retains a full geometry of
"battling" arthritis et al.,
       language as a process of decay...
awaiting new sprouts...
not from rock and bone and tensed muscles...
call 'em meatheads because
they "work-out" or call 'em meatheads
because: they mosh... and headbang?

i subscribe to the latter...
and my echo chamber is that of solipsism...
i ooze in a breath... into this chamber...
let's call it a flute... i'm hardly expecting
a reply on the basis of
a consonant-vowel construct like:
the prefix definite article of hebrew:
and that... roulade of laughter: ha ha ha...
with language... i decay...
but in my decay i also stab back
with "rumours" of exfoliation...

it's an erotica perplex... ingesting...
all the scent of a lazy autumnal wood...
it's not yet the zenith of summer,
spring is far from sending a postcard...
and i'm already thinking about
autumnal scent...

      piquat: an inquisitive palette requires
a partially pickled brain...
the body can play the masquerade...
healthy though: via physical labour exercise...
or... i know that riding a bike for
mere looks... can breed... a...
    adverse symptom of succumbing to
classical roman bulimia...
index and ******* down your throat...
wait about 3 minutes...
the foodstuff comes back up
like a furr-ball...

         so much for the mirror...
or at least... so much for... pretending to do
what will never come to pass...
when contemplating the river of Heraclitus
or the sea of Xerxes...

i see moonlight now... yes... a membrane
of mercury everywhere: notably on metal
and stone...
come the wintry season...
a walk down a red carpet...
the crystal **** of paparazzi flicker
paving the way...
shards of a body disobeying orders...
the head moving on a seasaw left
to right to catch the imaginary camera flashing...
in winter... when the frost exfoliates
on the concrete: as light does in the *****
of stars upon the sky...
when mercury drips its membrane
onto all things: visible... determined to remain
thus...

perhaps it's a masculine "thing"...
hardly a body willing to apply itself to the laziness
of an oyster... but...
i guess vogue... ***** vogue zenith...
of european 17th / 18th century...
***** of kings: plump cottage pies...
more cushion for the push'on...
*******... thighs... kim novak hypnosis...
anything that hitchhock would have
turned a tongue to octopus and slobbered over...
beside these size 0.... coathanger "*****"...
break 'em at the joints and be leftover
with... a mush...

     the "exoskeleton" of man: god, morality,
conscience and thought... not in that order...
the next time i come under the inquisitive
inquiry of the *****-actor body...
voyeurism... yes... that will be the day...

again... a healthy body: down and out of
a gym... or: in and out of a construction industry?
a healthy body = a healthy mind...
when... the body isn't being exercised for
the sake of the body: to "look"...
or to "appear"... to be "perceived"...
a healthy body can... actually = an unhealthy mind...
when the body preoccupies the mind
to not deviate / explore from...
that basic rubric of 2 x 2 = 4...
that is the basic rubric...
the rest is just wording either hubris or hiatus...

beside that: to reiterate...
a healthy body... so... the omnivore palette?
eats anything... ***** anything that: doesn't move?
a healthy body = a healthy mind = an inquisitive palette?
if we're going to talk healthy body / healthy mind...
and eat nothing but poached chicken *******...
recite the number of calories...
point being?
    recitals of... a bland chinese takeaway guide
to cannibalism...
exercised bodies... "fearless"! in their endeavours...
ate: to ****... in between exercised...

we would like to eat those hamsters
with both skin... and bone...
not enough meat...
you see... and we do like a bit of crunch
and the juice of marrow...
if... you don't mind...

       an exercise in... staging... pomp...
and... the circumstance is already given...
mediocre poetry: grand-standing...
love the ****** ideal...
best told to ******* and...
start hustling via latex gimp...

                     best to leave the matter to
the indu-aryans: or not...
                             य(अ)                  समओक.