Friday, January 2, 2015


When Jack Swallowed the Hole

He was 7-times sorry:

He was so terribly hungry, that, having devoured

All the giant's dried, fermented, pickled,

Salted, burlapped, and wax-encumbered stores,

And half her timbered larder, too, why,

When the giant came home,

And stooped her head to pass through the door,

And saw the mess, thundering “What the--”

Why, he ate her too, his mouth extending,

Belly and throat distending,

Jaw unhinging, Ouroboraneously;

Jack swallowed his gargantuan lover,

Her little dog Fenris, too; oh, he had it bad:

He should've been sated twenty times over,

Yet that fire in his belly burned and burned,

It required sustenance, and could not be quieted,

Jack gulleted cows and fields (big ones, up there in cloud land),

Streamside willow, oaky wood, stream itself, and both banks too,

Farmer Woodon's horses, hay, barn, hands and family,

Farmer W and little Conrad, too,

Hill and dale, poor land and rich, all on and in it,

Church and steeple (ow, that smarts),

Till Jack cried out, and stuck two fingers in,

Vomited forth all and all, cows and corn,

Big Ben and tiny Betty Lou, hay and giant, milk stool too,

And orchards with their apples, the deadfalls and the true,

Every stone and seed, and at the last a hungry pearl,

Which popped, quantumaniacally,




And everything was good,

Save Jack, who felt that he could do

With syrup, short stack, sausage, and a sunny-side egg

Or two.

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