Glack Goes The Brumble Thusters
Ernest Slyman
The Tuccas, who are Peruvians eat their lunches late,
Around three, and twice we have dined together,
Drinking their pnimbul juice,
Which tasted like machine oil, only sweeter,
And twice we supped on their porridge called glack,
A strange concoction of wild grass,
A thick long stemmed cinnamon-scented bush,
And the brittle thoughts of brumble thusters,
A plant that grows everywhere in Peru,
An annoying member of the gug family
That has the extraordinary habit
Of flowering every day, sometimes twice a day.
The orange petals clutter the streets,
And when stepped upon they groan,
Let loose testimonials to joy and pain,
All day come their sighs and sorrowful cries,
And everyone feels a little happy
And a little sad for them.
