02-01-2018, 02:28 AM
Gnomenclature
A gnome stood on the burning dreck
whence all but he had lightly scarped;
his memisum had lost its feck
while dread agnosia’s tremens harped.
O! Silicone, oh silisphere,
oh silipolygon of woe—
to stand complicent, void of fear,
where scented agnels dared not go!
His nose of gnome, once pregrammed to
detect faint clues of winch or wench,
still blastered what had launched his crew:
dreck’s burning, eyeful, viscous stench.
But our poor gnome, connections gone,
addressitable inaccessed,
could not interpret dreckish flawn
with standrads he had once possessed.
He snuffed: his nose began to bleed,
he felt the wet, he saw the flood...
but smitting with agnosia freed
him of all flightful fears of blood.
His nose fell off, and then his head;
his eyes looked up and skoaled the sky
disunderstanding he was dead,
agnosiac, too gnum to die.
A gnome stood on the burning dreck
whence all but he had lightly scarped;
his memisum had lost its feck
while dread agnosia’s tremens harped.
O! Silicone, oh silisphere,
oh silipolygon of woe—
to stand complicent, void of fear,
where scented agnels dared not go!
His nose of gnome, once pregrammed to
detect faint clues of winch or wench,
still blastered what had launched his crew:
dreck’s burning, eyeful, viscous stench.
But our poor gnome, connections gone,
addressitable inaccessed,
could not interpret dreckish flawn
with standrads he had once possessed.
He snuffed: his nose began to bleed,
he felt the wet, he saw the flood...
but smitting with agnosia freed
him of all flightful fears of blood.
His nose fell off, and then his head;
his eyes looked up and skoaled the sky
disunderstanding he was dead,
agnosiac, too gnum to die.
Non-practicing atheist