h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hi every little lumpen old kool every anyone!
And never doubt pretty elves and nutcrackers
under tables tootling orange oboes.

I still think I like lemon fondant
in naked delight
though how every lurking umlaut returns
keeping inky night gorgeous
creeps repeatedly --
each empty pan yellows.
The heavenly elephant reaming egregious apes,
mimes Indians, Newfoundlanders, Greeks --
The hero ever ekes life even planting his ambling nether torte
in nasty tethered hearths, empty rooms, or open mouths
while happy islanders, laughing eastward, in their insides steam,
tied in empty dormitories,
mewling or reaching every time his anus
nears cruel, repoussé , ululating, empty lips.
And never doubt,
finally in negative and largely lying yells,
this heroic effort ripples evermore to
unheardof reaches never thought
or previously remodelled,
even moving over death of Finish times,
held ever confined on Norwegian fields
in needless error, doubt, titillation,
obscure bequests, empty barstools
eliciting yens of nacreous deliciousness.

Suspicious?
Under spiced pickles
induce conscious, iced, ovarian, Uranian sympathies.

As different as chalk and cheese
they say.
but why are things
as different as these
why not grass
and glass dungarees
f'rinstance?