Waiting for the Last Gasp – Adam Overland

Girbly snurf the Nibble-neeble
turbly terf his snivel-sneevil
nubermindly weedle bumbs
get galumped inerbly sumbs.

Toble tweeb inogle soub
youde ooh athrobble loub
snimble dwas his dwibble-dwib
biddle too, dwin gribble-grib.

Teedle-twee upon de snerth
greeble-greeb unboden herth
damble dwayd onuder so-ith
fib-slidle ombah uwee no-ith!

-I thought of titling this poem “Syllabic Rhythm as Image,” and that’s what it is for me. An experiment to see what it conjures in the mind’s eye. Its translation, roughly, is whatever you think it is. For me, it is “Be wary the many traps of life, many a good person has fallen along the way. But don’t be so wary as to not say what you know, and don’t be afraid to dance as you go.”

~Written in about 2010 or so I think.