Twas Neil who told me
'Bout this gem of greatness.
I am so thankful.

Now, I must refresh;
Three times a day I check
Fabulist, my love.

Fabulist to see
all things art to mp3
great things brings to me

what splendid things do

dazzle at the fabulist!

yes, I'm an addict

The sultan's elephant
Tokidoki and play-doh--
Oh, this is true love.

What thrills me so much
That my testicles have dropped?
Fabulist, of course!

the world's sureal interpreter this is
Searching, seizing, defining: Fabulist!
Showing the best available in biz
Delivered in technicolor true gist

Oh, my fabulist,
You are the essense of cool,
Never change, dear friend.

There once was a site named Fabulist
That served as a social catalyst
Neil showed me the way
Now I check every day
There's ever an article that I've missed

There once was a unicorn that was pissed
That brought towards the great fabulist
A stab to a mime
and there goes my time
Spent at this site of anthropological bliss

There were two girls Olga and Jewlie
Whose treasure-posts were quite unruly
They dangled sweet photos
Of fuzzies and cute logos
And left every Fabulister drooly!

‘Twas late the hour, the laptop purred
And glowed with flicker’d images
Hundreds of sites, til the maid averred
The Nets had brought her off her hinges –

Bleary-eyed and carpal-tunneled
She rose sharply from her seat:
“If I will always thus be funneled
through such trite tripe, I claim defeat!�

Heavy the hand that moved the cursor
To the lists of bookmarked files,
As she deleted each transgressor
and the Spam Gods traded smiles.

But deep within their hidden lair
The witches saw in their looking glass
the Spammers deriding the despair
of the hapless cyber-fuddled lass –

“No!� cried Olga and “Never!� Jewlie,
as they drew up their shining site;
Said Olga, “We can stop this, and must duly
Save this maid from the dregs of night!�

The Spam Gods saw the window loading
And lunged for the interwub disconnect,
but too slow to stop the maid from noting
the odd moniker – and she clicked, perplexed.

What gasps as she scrolled down the twin maroons!
Oh the curses of those weak gods of Spam!
But Olga mocked gaily as Jewlie lampooned
their plebian music and whole lack of glam.

And ‘twas early the hour, the next bright morn
When at long last the lass arose, yawned, and slept;
Dreaming of colored toys, no longer forlorn
for Olga and Jewlie by her side always kept.

^ so. awesome.

Somewhat Fabulist Feel...

teacup on my computer moniter
down the rabbit hole
eye candy sooo cute
like pocky
the indie edge of
toast flavored tunes
and what is Olga doing?
hang me some ink edged clouds
curl up in a fabulist world
like the orange curl end of summer
scotch in a flask
and kittens in a corderoy pocket
somehow halfway home
someone is here


-love you guys... knishes,

raych

drowning in data
fingers and hearts pull us out
gasping, fabulist

I'm growing lazy
haiku is all i can post
maybe two or three

Is this post too late?
a cactus for my girlfriend please
fabulist rocks, k?

Toast Toast Toast Toast Toast
Toast Toast Toast Toast Toast Toast Toast
I demand More toast...

I keep comming back
You guys are better than crack
my body thanks you much

I lied, fabulist
you deserve many more haiku
how many would you want?

I could write you 10
you have inspired my life
much more than sushi

machiavelli
should have read you guys if he
wanted normalness

at times i want love
at others, power i crave
fabulist sates

I write because i:
love, read, live by and follow
you guys every day

this is number 10
and still i cant tell you all
how much you rock!1!one!

The best thing about Olga posting on the internet
Is that it's Olga
And she's posting on the internet

if fabulist was poetry
it would be free verse
the kind that reads quickly
and lingers too long

if fabulist was babies
it would be snakelings
the kind that tangle you up
and that grow into pythons

if fabulist were musics
it would be undefinable
the kind that everybody loves
and that nobody really gets

and if fabulist were food
it would be toast
the kind that you eat
and I would eat it

and would not need jam

lots of lurker love and lacking punctuation marx,
audrey