Woke Up Feeling I Had Parsed Something

With the help of a magician holding a black bag belonging to a kindred magician who owned the nearby novelty store that charged half for most of its wide ranging merchandise

With the help of angels manufactured by distance learning professorial renditions of a rivulet drizzling somewhere in mid-Africa

With the help of corresponding nuns who whittled in the whittling olympics versus brethren who did not

With the help of signature defectors who held in competence as though it were a form of halitosis

With the help of a dictionary assembly team on duty for the full complement of thirty years to formulate this new edition

With the help of bubble machines that used to operate full time on the weekly Lawrence Welk extravaganza

With the help of smokers of the corn cob pipe that used to be a staple of the weekend country social

With the help of end run cousins populating enemy land while considering conversion to non sequitur arrangements of the language

With the help of blue corn products meant to feed the citizens of all ages colors creeds who make up stories fit to print in suburban neighborhood newsletters

With the help of conscience as a harbinger of optimistic things to come despite a stingy history

With the help of broad exculpatory outbursts meant to comfort an intended God shaped in the imaged likeness of a frail facsimile of homo sapiens