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Betty's Burgundy Dress

uploaded: Fri, Nov 2, 2018 @ 6:01 AM last modified: Fri, Nov 2, 2018 @ 6:02 AM (add)

by	Speck
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More of a writing exercise, but possibly someone can do something creative with it? Or not.

Based on my memory of having read John Lennon’s A Spaniard In The Works long ago in which he replaces words with similar sounding words. I thought I’d take Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address and go through it phrase by phrase, changing it as I go to whatever came into my mind that sounded similar, not being too concerned about logic.

Here’s the original Gettysburg Address -

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that “all men are created equal”.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived, and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of it, as a final resting place for those who died here, that the nation might live. This we may, in all propriety do. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow, this ground— The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have hallowed it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here; while it can never forget what they did here.

It is rather for us, the living, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom—and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

And here’s my Betty’s Burgundy Dress -

For sure there’s not a lot to go. Scar Feather bought four and donned them in his tent. He knew nothing, believed they could not see, and indicated the supposition that almonds are great with Equal.

Scotty got engaged to a really civil whore, testing whether castration, or any notion ill conceived, and so predicated, can be a cure. Rewarm it on a Greek butterfinger, orator. We’ve succumbed to delicate abortion of it, as if vinyl nesting cases chose his died hair, that creation might give. Come what may, in our anxiety zoo. Put in a barge off France, weaken not Fred and Kate – she cannot concentrate - he cannot wail or get down – the shaved wren, riven with dread, half hollow wit, scarred with love for more showers to addle the facts. The whirlwind spittle wrote, your wrongly membered sot with grey hair; vile in a ten by four pit of a pig’s lair.

It is gathering dust, forgiving, to be dead and hated here. Toothy fun, grinning jerk with hay they sought fair and just are so coldly entranced. It is rather course to be there desiccated through the grave hack regaining the forest. Hats from these hundred fed we fake, in ceased revulsion to that paused for witch, they saved the least fomenter of emotion – what we hear slyly evolves what cheese bread, pale nut, has dried insane – that his station, understood, still has a nude bird and Sedum. Sand flat covenant of the steeple, lil Bo Peep’ll gore the sheeple. Shallow parries form the dearth.