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The
last time I smelled beach oil like that,
I lost all sense of direction. The world turned
upside down and the stars became starfish tangled
in my seaweed hair.
My anemone fingers, fluttered in de wabe
far from Jabberwocks and Jubjub birds
—it was just us and we were mimsy.
No frumious thing could enter there where we were
on account of the scent of that oil. It cloaked us
with frabjousness, all chortley.
No vorpal burble could whiffle through and slay
that brillig moment. We slithy toves would just
gyre and gimble away upon the moonlit sea.
I lost all sense of direction. The world turned
upside down and the stars became starfish tangled
in my seaweed hair.
My anemone fingers, fluttered in de wabe
far from Jabberwocks and Jubjub birds
—it was just us and we were mimsy.
No frumious thing could enter there where we were
on account of the scent of that oil. It cloaked us
with frabjousness, all chortley.
No vorpal burble could whiffle through and slay
that brillig moment. We slithy toves would just
gyre and gimble away upon the moonlit sea.
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