We sincerely hope that the frock-tossing, bewhiskered reader enjoys the title. Also, we think we're going to stick with this totally radical new font, skraight drippin serif all over da place.
It's time for some couplets. They are long couplets, which you might enjoy even more than short ones.
He had a stare like a blast furnace and
Wrapped himself in a bearskin of silence
He had twin pythons for forearms and
Wore a jacket because it made his mother happy
His footfalls like the final turn at Pimlico
We watched that bundle-of-crows hair try to keep up
His heaving chest was a bison among goats
But he preened like a kitten
He had a handshake like a warm bed and
Laughed because laughing felt funny
His face was graven as though by ancient tides but
His leather boots shone fresh as a calf at the udder
He had a back like the base of a redwood and
Broke rocks when he kicked em
She had haunches like a fleeing doe
And a stare like candied steel
His knees creaked like an old house in a storm
But his trunk was a mule and an ox
And because any structure is originally established with a view to its eventual downfall:
He was coiffed like a Hapsburg prince but
Couldn't lash two clauses together if you gave him
80 feet of spider silk and a long weekend
You've all been so lovely. A river there chief (say it fast).
- Alvaro Jefferson
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