Mannahattas isn’t a Poetic Word. The Aborigines, was/is Poetic.

Spring splintering in creosoted splatters a dock of clustered barnacles, igniting fire water of aboriginals spent waters, aboriginal’s.

Spent napkins of disorganized live, cleaning up after organizational man’s wive, wives spent waters, wives’.

Thus a sanitary napkin, splintering organizational man’s atomization, and next of kin, wives spent kin, baptismal fire water, the “in-laws”.

Summer, a kind of stink, of algae bloom, the spring of a leak, atomization’s doom, a dom of a wife, a bond from Wall Street, a marriage bond, alimony says.

Summer, flushed down the toilet, merrily row row row, the trickles and tranches of interest flow, flow, flow.

Summer so sweet, the spyro gyra is pretty, as slime, baptismal fire water says fine, a late bloomer, so say the kin folk, down on the street,

Time for replenishment, time for more sweet, time for spyro gyra feeders to gain some control, to compost organizational man’s atomization for to compete,

Ghislaine Maxwell’s puppy, it sleeps. In a manger, no crib for its bed. Slouching towards Babylon– a Marc Jacob’s intern, giving head.