31/10/2006 7:25:01 PM

Blubber

The gold sticks

twist and turn,

trying,

trying to find

where the cackle is.

Nobody listens to her cackle,

for this cackle is his cackle,

never to be hers.

Mystery mountains curse the cackle,

throwing it over cattle redness,

bleached cackle, white cackle

Is pig noise anew.