Poladaris Nutatis: a brave new LANCET

Sigma Numb:
Three days before the coming of the second,
I frosted up the glass door bay with heavy chanting,
word-congealed air supply song ridden musk twinged hypo-atmospheres,
graceful pirouetting hula dancers in the cold of starlight
chips on the soldiers of fortuna maxima,
built like a modern day cinder brick I was.
My balls were of steel, my girders of cornmeal
sealed up in a box
last laser-tagged during the summer of recompense.
Cello salad for all.
Breezy smiles thrown down my windpipe.
Swaying cross as can be tantrum flinging blue harp overtonic gin-soakers
snake-eyes in the sand dunes can can I yes yes no wait for the morning
night moles day pole-dancers raspy toad swatchers watch wearing bo-wielders welders of all nature
handle on the pan can swing will dance by the pale yellow marmalade
the devil has meaning glass bottled model ships mottled green variegated lame brained plans of hoi-polloi.
Lady, I ain't no boy-toy by my plaything ain't the thing to sing odes about.
No innuendo please cheese all around. San-to the -gria