wind giant blow poem with a virtually unreadable and painful abdominal mid-section for Francois Rabelais - only a riff at present.

the wind giant was pretty much invisible to humans as they couldn't really resolve him other than as a sort of disturbance of the air a thing that shook the night and stilled birds in the day -- he came on with whirlwinds and zephyrs playing about his shaggy head came onward and was gone

when they caught him and got him down he lay stretched on the sand suddenly still and calmed but watchful silent visible from the flurries of grit that delineated him while they tried to force him to speak

what he finally said was forced coaxed nursed cajoled
expectorated with haunting liquors

stroked tortured summoned forth like a djinn falling for an old trick
humoured joked with fishwives
beaten persuaded reasoned

argued tricked snicked snecked
bullied patronised matronised

god-bothered belly-laughed
grated greeted groated

mocked caught up in webs of wheedle words browbeaten weaseled

fleeted tempted pre-empted
gutshot left to all but rot

batted unhatted desquamated

peeled like pigeons in pie
elicited
charged down like an elk weak with laughter berated blethered

bleated unravelled torn worn
worshipped shamed flamed unreeled bezeeled wittered

withered bored blah-blahed clawed
pontificated unto until desperation set in unfolded unfurled
desiccated like a mummy with a natron hangover

extracted
impacted
distracted

headed off at the pass

rambled on bambled distressed
pressed into lipservice wearied with all night besettings by small animals

blearied tugged fugged bugged
blugged like a ballan wrasse prising away limpets

unwound browned ripped unzipped as though with a rusty blade
flipped cripped and lipped

with great linguistic derangements of his person
with mighty bloody assaults upon his towers of air
with appeals to citizens to hurl upon him symbolic fruits
with witty ensnarings of his logical faculties
with entrapments and clever paintings into corners
with befriendings and amorous words followed by precipitous violent assaults
with many encirclings and sudden rushes forth
with pleasing and righteous finality

fleeced and flayed and fucked like a dugout canoe and fretted and fondled and frigged like sixteen sheets to a bad wind and fingered like injuns and forced like there was nothing for it and fleshed all out of him boned with bear traps only one reluctant squeak only one enfeebled fart of a faff of a word:

'Blow'.

He said nothing else and quickly dissipated into his own shimmering and was gone leaving no one who could understand his one little word that sat there between them all in the hot air like a petulant firefly -- and then on the horizon miles away they watched his silhouette forming up towering black and storming over the dunes heading north where a big blow was gathering busy with his own thoughts his own heading his own long deep important and most urgently requested windblowing of his anabatic storming and isobaric weathercock.