From: roach4994@gmail.com   
      
   On Sunday, June 20, 2021 at 12:39:34 PM UTC-7, Rachel wrote:   
   > here's the cleaned up version, if you guys are interested. :) (if anybody   
   else is still there, too?)   
   > 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   
   > 5/24/21 Approximately    
   > For Mr. Dylan's 80th Birthday - kinda late, sorry :-/// i'm not in charge of   
   these things at all - the flow of creativity, that wellspring of Calliope from   
   which all poetry is born... ;-) if this even qualifies as a poem! tiny lol.    
   >    
   > ****    
   >    
   > ps i hope mr. dylan likes it. :-/// :)? what do you think? you guys know   
   about him a heck of a lot better than i do! :) i really have absolutely no   
   idea! ha ha, dlb. my ha ha's are twinged with sarcasm/morbidity/joke's on me,   
   a lot of the time. you    
   know, such as when i don't feel well, like now.   
      
   sorry google makes it bichromatic (is that a word?)   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)