Rick Ollman's

all souls' solace
Deep Face
Quirk in Progress

Quirk in Progress
Quirk in Progress (Forewornd)
Tird Instoolmount
The Questing
The Wake
A Wholeman
Raptured and Soulomio
The Censorest Forum of Fraudery
Quirk in Progress Next >>>
Tird Instoolmount
Wayword anywhen wright this why?
If you went to go from azure to heather to thither to zither or wherather, ouaie derive, or as we say in Olemaner screech, fahrt leak this, witches to say, as our Miceturd dutieth?

Jheistian stealistics,
in the end, are merrily Engaelish exsprechens with a torch of oddy-odd odder tuncs drone in. Nothing is as is seams. Nothing is as is, is as is, is as is.

I whereby annoints myserf flee!
Flea to tick what I prise from my own warehouseflies, to subtle up my own warhorseflies, to bee my own godfly! I fair gnat what mite hoppen if I get cat. All's fear insects and were!

I'm a'freed.
Oak A, noun waddle I do? Uh. Um. Well, I, er, could, tale a starry. Or, uh, meek a pome. Ore boat...


The scarry spies
that guy our corset see,
mate here decries
but well they an't, sir? We
are passiont but
weak cannon told doubt. Be
hair whip us, gut,
in Dis our turn of knead,
and pole oar shut
debt's dower. We would breed
easier, why's-
er, could we superseed
those knowsy ayes,
doze heavenish, heavy size.

I failt hear the nexttestity
for a starched out, launder line, bibber and bedder, some shorts and shortsleaze, but moistly extinted, exstainded, button knot to say, expermanently prosed. Drossed in expansive fenery of sulks, fellfits, satan and lice and antithetic phobricks like acrawlix and rainon, my lawndirt line is addmired by all the nabber hoods.

Too and tree foot easely max fib or sics.
Talk a deep breast and hold it but as you expire you formant your voxic airguns and carvities to reasonate soundly in earder to be hard in the lust raw.

Repsychling arse elves,
creasing the greet whater, definning our porpoises and spanning our whales, emmowing on lawned and in airor too, we arriveast at a new time, new superstation, neverthemore same ol' say mole, and...

We Fauned Oursylph

We fauned oursylph as in a dirk phosforest
Hoos innerd glowm deletes the raptor'd I.
The canopeas so greenly breautify
In harmmany with a grassive mown of chorus'd

Vices, neither apic nor past oral.
They thrawl us with cowedbursts of wordland patter,
The unextinglished Would and noumenclatter,
Momentous mimes of timelines immemoral.

Butstill Ourstory mustnot stophere atonce.
The darknest is athome within usall
And someone robspierre toupee appall.
So couplesmate eachother backs-to-fronts,

So Lug will conger all that anygun can,
And mereriches remines the goald of ma'm and woe man.

Rich Oilman, Mart 1990

Quirk in Progress Next >>>
 Home  |  Deep Face  |  Tandems  |  Quirk in Progress  |  Lover's  |  Uncollected

Copyright © Rick Ollman 2000-2023. All rights reserved.