TEACH ME TONIGHT (TANKA WITH BONUS LINES)
First, you'd read me some
Dylan Thomas and then we'd
take off each other's
pajamas and hump like a
couple of orgling* llamas,
without any pauses line/
breaks
or commas.
*Orgling (from the internet)
Males will make a very strange sound while they are breeding which is called an orgle.
They will sometimes make this sound if there is an open female on the other side of the fence. A breeding will typically last twenty minutes and will often go longer, with the male orgling continuously.
All of the other females will gather by the fence to see what is going on as soon as they hear an orgle. Often the male is quite attentive to the female during the breeding process, nibbling lightly on her ears and rubbing her neck with his front feet (my italics).
The female, on the other hand, usually looks completely bored and will sometimes eat grass, occasionally looking around at the male, as if to say “Aren’t you done yet?”
--------------------
FYI, I'd never, ever ask if you were done yet. I'd read The London Review of Books, and I'd never look over my shoulder. That's how all that "I/Thou" nonsense starts.
(From Deeplip's novella-in-verse, Unreqwerty'd Love.)
First, you'd read me some
Dylan Thomas and then we'd
take off each other's
pajamas and hump like a
couple of orgling* llamas,
without any pauses line/
breaks
or commas.
*Orgling (from the internet)
Males will make a very strange sound while they are breeding which is called an orgle.
They will sometimes make this sound if there is an open female on the other side of the fence. A breeding will typically last twenty minutes and will often go longer, with the male orgling continuously.
All of the other females will gather by the fence to see what is going on as soon as they hear an orgle. Often the male is quite attentive to the female during the breeding process, nibbling lightly on her ears and rubbing her neck with his front feet (my italics).
The female, on the other hand, usually looks completely bored and will sometimes eat grass, occasionally looking around at the male, as if to say “Aren’t you done yet?”
--------------------
FYI, I'd never, ever ask if you were done yet. I'd read The London Review of Books, and I'd never look over my shoulder. That's how all that "I/Thou" nonsense starts.
(From Deeplip's novella-in-verse, Unreqwerty'd Love.)
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