Up to Bat Against It All

We shall sully forth to stare at carpets and wet wrists.
Note: that line requires an English accent.

So, instead, I took her to see a whale eat itself.
He used capital letters and spectacle cheese.

Afterwards, naked, her ear acquired expectations
heavy as "do you like my mother's homemade x?"

Here is the shame of it: I don't say anything.
My throat lilies are illkempt enough
to depress my mother's tennis hats, and
my every hose will fail to stripmine cliffs.

As the whale kept right on and on,
a blanket strung itself behind my teeth,
so to talk through it I needed a flashlight
and a children's book, something overly sly.

im sorry im stupid and churlish
I later told her in an email.

Jesus, she thinks, now with the right words.
And Jesus says hellz yeah, that fucker. more mustard?

It's just like me to grope for the stage door.

My tennis team required I acquire certain skills
before I tried to beat the German blonde.
Instead I took him to drop shots and bad calls.

Meaning: he said out! and I said whale!
He said what? and I said milky things sifting
water-rocked. Water-rocked? Water-rocked.

Really, I drove home half-drunk, in complete
control of the song selection.
I stared at swingsets.