Rami was a pyramid designer guy, and used that renown to have Sareshi by the river, and sent the baby by basket to wherever basket babies go, and Lo! Sareshi is again by the river while Rami has Maralan, and S. plugs her ears with reeds, the stalks sticking out like horns, and Maralan joins her when her own basket floats, and they can't hear Rami doing a high-knee dance when the pyramid is done.
That Rami, bad Rami, is gone, says Maralan, Off to the next city, says Sareshi, Where are your baskets, says their mother.
Basket-hunter brothers, out for a search, Have you seen our sisters' baskets, No, but the churning river of reeds is a basket sinker for sure, Lo! but I think I see one, Hark! but I hear crying, This one is alive, This one is dying,
and so many
He's mine, look at the eyes, says Sareshi, He's mine, look at the nose, says Maralan, He's mine, look at the hair,
He's mine, says their brother, He's mine says their other brother, You are good searchers, but stupid, says their mother, it's neither of yours, you're stupid, and virgins, it's ours, ours, all, no one's and everyone's, put it to bed, and let's play Parcheesi.
Rami was a pyramid designer guy, and did a high-knee dance, had Sareshi and Maralan, gave neither a chance, and one day he died of syphilis, and no one cared.
1996 © 2008