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Overloading the Machine
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Accept tourism, it's a soiled tusk again
But it's economic, the mascot ally
We use to perceive, twist and tie the beach
To the forest. Or else you may sing in alto
The way taxis lie about negotiating
Their beams, waiting to ply
Their trade again.
The camel died quite suddenly on the second day, and Selena fretted
sullenly and, buffing her already impeccable nails -- not for the first
time since the journey begain -- pondered snidely if this would dissolve
into a vignette of minor inconveniences like all the other holidays spent
with Basil.
-- Winning sentence, 1983 Bulwer-Lytton bad fiction contest.
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