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

Decembrists under the beer mutton! Pelvic shelves disarrange unemotional for the reason they seem so spurious. Never but thy majestic meagre tryst under fringe of noble cutting, since these foreverly frivolous creep missions will not last, not until frequent dysmorphic bleach for your understanding. Dying is never unanimously refined unless finger-brilliant nerds assemble the grating gibbon blessing. Huzzah! Never mind the buzzing of the hibernal vache meddlers. As for the clemency under trudging blepharic negation, so misused the prolifery. This is the crux of the legerdemain. Previous to the high-reaching gurgle no smidgen of garrulosity indemnifies further. Bismuth should rue needlessly or grotty besides, cadaver unbelieving joyful but ever so bitter. Mitigate several cracks in the basket shelves. Knife blutter sheepy flugar and wick until breathless. Posit a necromantic fig, except the cloak of desperation shifts unto green drippings of arching bellies. Nevertheless, yuranimous victim no grab la fantoom how so negatory fly groom. But ultimately, sad by hovel neat nor brimming.

I am trying to posit a necromantic fig, but it's hard...

I know!

The Symrna fig: necromancer of old,
Conjuring up the spirits of fig wasps past,
Those sacrificial bodies that gave birth
To the Neolithic Revolution.
Tireless the intrepid males
That bored their way to freedom,
Frenziedly mating,
dying exhausted, but fulfilled.
The liberated females, flying on
Spreading the word, the DNA, that fed
A human race yet in its cradle.
All honour, life-bringing fruit, and thanks
from a grateful descendant of the Stone Age.

Heh heh Dmitri I should have known you'd rise to the challenge. Great poem!

Love the word salads, guys. . Amazing! Brilliant! I wish I could add something to the mix, even a meagre lettuce leaf, but for now I think I'll just scoff all your salad, because I'm a bit brainless right now. I love it.