CAKE: Or, GLORIOUS FOX

WHAT STARTS AS MOSTLY JUMBLED THOUGHTS:

I'm layers & layers of cake, O, glorious fox, come to me, and fox, eat this sweet. What would it be, if you tried me then? A tremendous monsoon, the smell of water? Flowers? Smooth, like warm, drawn butter?
     Prodigious one, Herculean one, powerful stratified.
     A baser abatoir as the base. Hemoglobin for days & days.
     Join me at our table for the next one up. What's it like, the next one up? Silky like scales of piebald creatures? Bottled like fumes from amplified jasmine? Money can't buy this, though they've tried for ages. Cash for the cake, no no, though you may have suggested it.
     In the purple zone I've got a field for two. Come, sweet fox, I'm making room. The firmament is full, my heart is warm, the bedsprings creak, when you wallow this one. Its in the woods, just a lead-foot away. First you choke, to get the remains.
     Its spring in the middle, and serious as rod. Knotted in the wood, and painful gain assured, I can take the grit, if you offer the chew.
     To the top its funny. I'm funny and there I am. Gimme the grins, and I'll give you the cake, each layer & layer from which I'm made.

BECOMES POETRY BUT STILL MOSTLY JUMBLED:

CAKE: Or, Glorious Fox

Come on fox, and eat this sweet,

like so many layers of layered cake.

Glorious fox, so much to say,

like all the words I fail to make.

But there's no matter what words may say,

if the music swings a certain way.

A baser abatoir at my base...

and hemoglobin, for days upon days.

Come here fox, I'll take your meat,

the firmament's thick with my layered sweet.

Totem, fumes, belief, beseech,

I'm making room for the springs to creak.

Creek like water if you daren't tried,

warm drawn butter to keep me alive.

Sated, filled & stratified...

bottled sawdust, amplified.

Give me arms, foxed in your embrace,

give me tails tucked around my waist.

Give me breath, no pain, no gain,

give me passion to last the age.

Darling fox, I'm keen to play,

for keeps and I would have it that way:

Give me the ardor and I'll give the cake...

each layer & layer from which I'm made.

CaS o5.o2.16