Run! I’ll eclipse the rat-moths.
Hello, Mr Shirt-rat Punt-slice.
Spruce tail-horn melts tiles.
Tell Seraphim: “Cut lone shirt!”
Marlin curls the Piste Hotel.
Lutheran climes; prole shite.
I’ll coil the art’s sperm tune.
Curt Trashpeel in Miso Hell.
Hot lunch trill: eels, meat, lips.
Eliot’s cat-purse ‘n’ mirth-shell.
Call her in here, Strepsil-mouth.
Nil-clit Herostratus helper.
Calipers ruin the sloth-melt.
