Glug, glug, glug?
Glubbles glurgling on!

Grimy, grimy cauldron?

Gloomy grouchy growls!

“I
MOONLIGHT OF DIRE SKIES, STRIDE BY MIDNIGHT’S RYE TO
FIND THE LAIRS OF DESPAIR WHERE HAIRY BEARS
FARE AND SAND THEIR HANDS INTO CANS OF BLAND
FLAN TO BE SMOOSHED INTO GOO TO
GLUE ON MY ACHINGLY LAME FACE AS
MAKEUP!”

Alas
the lass slathers her ghastly mass past the
brass, escapes from the gray jail of her hazy
cage, the dead bedroom that bled her
head with boredom so horrid she sored to gore a
gorge in tall walls that galled and
APPALLED

But
hush! She mustn’t cuss a
fuss, although father’s bald bodyguard on
watch seems asleep. See her sneaking
feet peel the sheened screen into the gleaming green
meaty farm? A Carnaval of floating bartenders’
arms shiver in the hissing
whistle of the wind, listening to the mistress’
skips across the moss, glossed in frosty
DEWDROPS

Hark!
harsh, car crash-like barking of the Gnarling Mahar
marks this crevice into which
Lilith descends! Let no mental men
sense with eyes what lies on these slimy
SIDES

CLING
FINGERS LINING WRINKLY
THING, GRAB GUCKY
GRUEL TUGGING SKIRT TIGHTLY. STILETTO
TRIES GET OFF, STABBING
BEAST HIDING BEHIND DYING
WHINES SKUNK. NO DRUNK SLUNK WITHOUT
HUNK OF SCARED BEAR! DARES DECLARE FAIR
SHARE ALL ANIMALS’ PALLS
MALL, SLICES DICE GLIDING MICE ON
ICY FLOOR FOR POTION STORE – DECORATED
GALORE!

Returning
by teleporting in a blurring,
mystifying fog (rather than jogging in the polluting
smog), she dumps the clumps and lumps of
plump into the frothing broth she
GOT

Smells
she such sensualizing stench so
stale from the sweat of animals’
stink, puffs on some penetrating
perfume to please her prepared
appetite tingling her toes from the tangy
taste. For the finishing touch, she adds some
fetid flowers and a fusty fish – a flavouring so
fulsome and fit for a young female, even
Frankenstein would find it a fulsome
FEAST!

It
begins! Lilith lifts herself a sip to her lips of
thick, oozing super goop-soup that
soothes her soul in whole; oh,
behold the amazing gravy-laced glaze –
AY!

Globs
on cheeks? Not a problem! She
plops her head into the hot
pot and slurps, and burps, and
chirps in glee at the sweet meat she could
EAT

Suddenly,
her gums become glum that the
fun was totally over, with no
more to spread on her head or
instead on her aging face – say, what a
WASTE!