Tuesday, June the 7th, 2005
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Go to the orchard, and then come back, and don't forget to bring the burlap sack. My poultice is in there, and so is my lint, and I just trod upon an upturned tack.
This ancient and well-known folk rhyme is the starting point for a soon-to-be-published set of verses by Dennis Beerpint. Mrs Gubbins contacted the poet via her metal tapping machine to talk to him about it, but the transcript of their conversation was pecked at by flocks of cinnamon-rumped trogons and vernal hanging-parrots and rendered illegible, alas, alack.