Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Dolphy of the Coasts

Just when we thought the greensward full Lasty was called downsea to ships, to train green Dolphy for the coming dives. That fellow had  need of a man to hone the bill, bounce the dolphin ball, whistle and tweet. Back and forth he goes, a beauty to behold.

Lasty last conversed the dolls, who said mama, mama end to end, when boy doll Nick, who also said drink, in the midst of three grown athletes jumped sofa to table to chair, lept floors then hid in momma's arms.

He cried "mama, mama" when it came for shots or when zookeepers put back on his clothes like chicken feathers on a cow. Lasty's dolphins were black and blue
they worked so hard to get a point. Would the marine layer clear?

In the pattern of the dust when lion and dolphin lay  to rest before they leapt, and tucked fins in at sea, the further out they crept, a string wound tight, walls and floors inset with jewels, available for a song when you lie down.

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