From: goldarachel@gmail.com   
      
   Eggs without a Soul –  An American Tale / for Nancy   
      
   The nagging question remained,    
   what to do, with the secrets    
   lying buried,    
   and carried,   
   in the as yet undiscovered hollowed Mind    
   of the cosmic biblical Queen,    
   that the King himself could never reach;   
   The mystic cage of Magical flesh,    
   Containing all the Colors    
   of their covenanted crafted rainbow −   
   Archaic Arc    
   of mis-assumed Anarchy, costly    
   Sacrifice −   
   of cultivated Wizardry   
   Hysterical Deer in armored terror,    
   trapped in nature’s    
   Fashioned Harry −   
   Spring’s Tornado’s incisive introduction   
   to an intrepid whirling dervish    
   Set in motion,   
   caught in every Stolen Headlight −   
   frozen,   
   locked in taut,    
   Dizzying,    
   Touched Tail spin   
   Plummeting back down to Earth again   
   the Shell of a Myth,    
   Cracking up −   
   former captive    
   of their Broken Cup;   
   Another firing, cocked misfit corrupt;   
   A shattering, fantastical    
   exploding −   
   of calculated Chaos,    
   Eroding;   
   Conceived in hidden constituted    
   Alchemy −   
   Kaleidoscope crystalizing all too clearly   
   she herself dismembered    
   in Hallowed insanity    
   Caught within a cloudy illusion;   
   the scattered cacophony    
   of confusion −   
   A concealed crazed    
   AlphaBet delusion   
   a Battered Heart which could never hold   
   the incontestable power of Gold −   
   it could never hold Water   
   and was,   
   Sooner or Later,   
   bound to dissolve    
   Opulent Obtuse Opinions    
   into Flipped,    
   undeniable Facts −   
   Strangers in a sad forsaken Land   
   Sunflower’s turquoise Turreted Tower    
   sinking Lifelessly    
   in the sand   
   like Humpty Dumpty falling,   
   tumbling,   
   all down into pieces...   
   He fell off that formidable wall −   
   foolish choked    
   Irresistible Gull −   
   Fissured skull   
   of a fractal Plan,   
   she fell straight   
   in, to   
   the Frying pan − Yolks    
   bubbling,    
   with melted Butter...served UP    
   with sizzling Bacon Crisps:   
   Sculpted glamorously    
   into Royal Strips −   
   slid shimmering    
   Onto our Smelt Plate:   
   Global Grand Slam at a Reduced Rate   
   they turned her into eggs    
   Over Easy:   
   All to the delight    
   of her dearest Companions,    
   so Greasy.   
   (Just one Caveat −   
   of which to be aware   
   If you can, remember   
   please    
   Handle With Care.)   
      
   Anybody care for Brains?   
      
      
   Ẅ   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)