Like a tramp’s thick ear grabbed by cops Blob shuns power with cosmic disdain. Blob’s gift is all wrap and in breaking jaws or under unfriendly fists Blob’s easily squeezed through all life’s blows. Blob’s a stopper for the gob, found lost, here in heaven’s gutter. Blob’s all cheek, all turning, all other, oblivious to goals Blob’s ever jumping to roll new moods and offer relief. This little infinity, endless from the outset, has nothing to hide because the skin Blob’s in is all heart. Blob’s tough enough to not tear when rinsed, so no stone! no sword! no fuss!, just crush Blob all summer while the tarmac and journey’s-end melt and we’ll all have a ball. Blob’s a paradise promised, a whirl within worlds, glimpsed secretly sun-drunk as the globe turns to face the slow music. Blob’s a no-place to own where those who dig teleflexibly connect. Blob equals more, it’s gravy! jelly to a breathless kid, and wearing the ununiform of peace Blob shrugs off identity, ever returning stranger. Blob’s the lo-maintenance buddy who’s morphing to kill your pain, so, like a ‘useful and beautiful’ breast, Blob gives, makes fools of strength, and (fully hate-resistant) turns each knead to love. Blob’s all difference, so Blob’s warm becoming’s guaranteed never to freeze. In the name of the rubber, and of the fun, and of the rolly spirit, Blob will always be around. If not completely satisfied simply re-turn. Blob without end, amen.