Zazie in the park

Little green bug I crushed        anaphor an a pest
       what do you know about turpitude
starry eyes & tarry thighs
you are a monk in the Hebrides
eating fried snickerdoodles      yellow tea     & buggery
always the Viking freak-out

Epilated at the ballgame
you confabulate with fingers & shrugs
your littoral enclitic technique:      suctorial humbug & contrasemen
     8th-inning dreams of wet nurses
scythed      by serried flanks     of big black marias
who are charming and     everlasting and     fabulous