In Shemp Creek, fools meet in saggy lettuce-water. They cannae swim; I doubt ye can! Yuir eyes are cackle-mottled n juju-pink.

Simmer in bottles under feckle-blankets. Yoo sayd yoo'd emerge once more. Yoo didnt.

Bleek outlook fi underwater swimmin; these wimmin don' want yuir purple tongue!

In hessian-winter yuir autumn-light keep a' tangle-bringin

Red sun in apple-barrels

Yuir spite-eyes keep a' commaminglin

An' sun-eyes don' wanna go a' water-ski-in

Fifteen little lithium baby-batteries

Talk back, uncorrected, in a loathesome dictal-factory

You shit yuirself in a semi-thatched, coral insurrection

Who sees this pectal, sad, soft erection?

Please don't correct my wanton, shameful diction.