“A very small amphibian is exhorted open itself to ideas, to celebrate loudly both sibilance and fish, to run the gamut of emotions, and to travel the world.”
No notion shun, my minute newt!
His hissing, sing! Her herring, ring!
Ululate hate! Toot, tout de suite, sweet!
On ennui wee, my minute newt!
To Togo, go! To Toulouse! (Lose
Titicaca.) North, north-east, east?
Ay! Icy sea? Add a dam! Am
I Eiffel-full? Say, “C’est pain?” Pan-
cake, eh? Yum yum. Ask arse-kisses!
An antic tic, this. Thistle, all.