The Frivolous Cake

I've been reading Titus Groan by Mevyn Peake.
This is one of the most amazing passages, at 16% in the library ebook.
A nonsense piece that I aspire toward, with my own writing style.
Lines are reproduced exactly as they appear in the book.

            A freckled
and frivolous cake
there was
                  That
sailed        on           a
pointless sea,
                Or         any
lugubrious           lake

there was
                  In             a
manner          emphatic 
and free.
               How
jointlessly,   and    how
jointlessly
                     The
frivolous           cake
sailed by
              On          the
waves  of  the  ocean
that   pointlessly
                   Threw
fish to the lilac sky.
               Oh,     plenty
and plenty   of     hake
there was
             Of        a
glory            beyond
compare,
               And   every
conceivable     make
there was
               Was
tossed through  the
lilac air.

           Up         the
smooth billows and
over the crests
                   Of    the
cumbersome
combers flew
                The
frivolous  cake  with
a knife in the wake
                   Of
herself     and      her
curranty crew.
                 Like       a
swordfish   grim     it
would  bounce  and
skim
                (This
dinner  knife  fierce
and blue),
                 And   the
frivolous  cake  was
filled to the brim
                   With the
fun  of  her  curranty
crew.

               Oh,  plenty
and  plenty  of   hake
there was
                   Of        a
glory             beyond
compare -
              And  every
conceivable    make
there was
               Was
tossed  through  the
lilac air.
                 
              Around  the
shores        of       the
Elegant Isles
                Where,
the    cat-fish     bask
and purr
                And    lick
their     paws     with
adhesive smiles
                   And

wriggle their fins of
fur,
               They     fly
and   fly  'neath   the
lilac sky -
                    The
frivolous   cake,  and
the knife
                 Who
winketh                his
glamorous       indigo
eye
                   In       the
wake   of   his  future
wife.

                The
crumbs   blow   free
down  the  pointless
sea
                     To   the
beat     of    a   cakey
heart
                And    the
sensitive    steel   of
the knife can feel
                  That
love is a race apart.
                In        the
speed      of         the
lingering   light   are
blown
                    The
crumbs  to  the  hake
above,
               And       the
tropical  air  vibrates
to the drone
                  Of          a
cake in the throes  of
love.

Mervyn  Peake, from Titus Groan


Denis Streeter    3/24/19