170. how neptune the cucumber summons

the furniture steamed, but the sheep dog was clean
(i don’t know how, cause sometimes they reek),
and sauntered in back as the maze, chopped and hacked,
was cut into strips and slowly un-zagged

the sheep dog secured the plans from the four,
or rather the rat who disappeared over
the tall stable fence down into the eggs
(otherwise known as the blaine sewage wells)

these plans were important, but millionaires more than,
i mean what’s a maze without those who floor it,
so sheep dog directed the four poster bedding
to wrap them in silk and haul them belowdecks

back, i mean, stole, to the trunk of his rolls,
to haul them in secret, from shar pei unknown,
to landsdowne st. stephen, and there them to sweeten
(at some point i’m sure, the kidnapping’s forgiven)

the shar pei’s a problem, its yapping is constant
(900 years old and you’d think it’d have solved that) — 
the ottoman army (it’s stupid, i’m sorry,
they thought it was funny and kept on it harping —

ottomans really, there’s only the thirteen,
tied on a string in a maze sideways dropping)
reached to the side of the blaine hole horizon,
and under its lip saw the chaise lounges hiding

you know how it is when you’re hunting insects,
and shyly they hang on a leaf or a stem,
but take just a pipe out of one of their eyes — 
that’s what the chaise lounges did with this vise

vole, viscount, even, i mean underneath of,
the edge of deep space with wormholes beneath it — 
the rugs and the rest had chased them from this,
and they hung on a root bulb and held on for breath

ottomans isn’t (is, or?) is nothing if chivalrous
let down the last of the rope to help them up,
and tightly, in twos, winched out of the blue,
but the sod they had stuck to was starting to loosen

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