today's lunch poem is about the little fellers

Through dense whirlwings of discontinuity the little fellers run abstractly
Idiopathically, they disassociate Jack Dupree Reality in legions of
Little Fellers’ ambidextrate Sarcophagi
As the dumbification planks down before their fleet feet ensquadroned indecipherably
While cantankerous commands through the shifting ambiguity
Ranges inadvertent to the plagues of the strange, home on the range
Them Little fellers little feet little known little less else throttling forces of ragged time
Bestich them disconsolate in their rummaged snafus as down up they go a sidewise slope
Confusion rapidly moving through the shards of a reality turned stem-wise upon
The plant of all things. But “Wait, don’t shut the door until the little fellers git in!”

The airflow clogged the splintered pillow filled w/ rock and rubble the upwardly thrusting landform opposed by its own volcanic origin the humble massive creature lumbering up by the stool holding the optical trance machine

Sun offering a sunset sunsetting over suns settling
As the rabid trash aches its discovery against
The pilgrim daylight while the little fellers ramble by

Shook, the shaken tree at the breach of time!
Outerly fitted in somnolent silence
Goofily the little farmer found the little fellers flagging by
Ever ranging the flaming fields.