Faded Houses Green

A calamity of clams calmly made the grievous error of consulting the vat of cocktail sauce, indeed and exceed.

Futility marked the foretold wealth of the nature of blisters and scallions–asleep these three thousand years–monstrous in all malingering. Half-placed drums and quarter-barreled trumpets committed the cardinal virtue of sparing the tilted banquet of affordable sands and Swiss health. Surrender, but don’t forget who’s taking you home to first base while I know steals the third path to merry second. Exceeding annihilated essence of preternatural nature, a gallon of formaldehyde is worth an ounce of prevention–at least if you know what you are trying to prove and especially if you are trying to prevent something miraculous.

That’s what the clams would say anyway in the way clams say what they say in the face of a nuanced calamity.