Monday, September 10, 2012


image borrowed from bing


to gallop or gallump,
to honk or hork,
to huggle without haggling,
this clearly is my trilemma.

I mean
how does a wordsmith lipskip
into a garden of nonsense
without accidently trompsing
the tremble def terrariums,
or blurping a disgusting viscus 
of scrittled ingst all over 
the innocent hipatitus blossoms?

Well, in a rare moment
of linguistic slickery,
I just launched several 
ebriated word missiles
and made my exit 

Glenn Buttkus

September 2012

Posted over on flipside records

Would you like to hear the author read this poem to you?


flipside records said...

This is awesome! You are cracking me up, Glenn. :) Oh how I love those broccoli trees!

I've never pictured the garden of Gethsemane quite like this.

These are my favorite parts:

"how does a wordsmith lipskip
into a garden of nonsense"

"linguistic slickery"

"made my exit maze-right"

So much fun. :) Thanks again for writing.

De Jackson said...

LOLOLOLOLOLOL! And yet, profound. Fantastic.

Oh, my. This line is just the best:
"or blurping a disgusting viscus
of scrittled ingst all over
the innocent hipatitus blossoms?"

It makes absolute, perfect sense. In SeussLand. Or Tim BurtonVille. ;)

Great stuff, Sir. Thank you for the BIG smile.

jackie dick said...

What a wordsmith are you! A fun piece...:) And was that a baked potato behind the broccoli trees?

Jennifer Wagner said...

Creative and fun to read--smiled the whole ride.