Bud Petal blogs here, and is also on facebook, twitter, vimeo, and instagram.


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What Can't Be Said Can't Be Said (And It Can't Be Whistled Either)

As the leaves fell down on Bialik Town, on a wept-stridden morning
I overheard a plaintive man, was lamenting for his Evelyn

"My Evelyn should be hanged on a Keirin chain, above the dittany
The apple of my eye all cycle-clipped. Oh, I blush and blench"

Go bridle me my milk-white steed, go bridle me my fixed-wheel
Hold fast for weal or woe, and stay the hand of vengeance

"Go away from my window sill, the pie there is cooling down
Leave me to loll my tongue, and lay by the chimney flues"

At two weddings did Evelyn dance; tug, tow, and pilotage
No need to cleave the air, like horses in the new morning clover

"A man about town have I become, and not for bread alone
What can't be said cannot be said, and it can't be whistled either"

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