Whomp bomp flip flop slam dance screw

There's a poem that begins "Thirty-five feet deep in the wet language...". I can't find it online, and I can't remember who wrote it.

It goes on about the poet's love being buried in words and turning blue, but since she doesn't love him back he can't do anything but pile more words on top of her. It's a better poem than I'm making it sound, and it's driving me nuts not being able to put my hands on the text... I posted in greatpoets, but no one's answered yet.

Anyone know it? I'd be terribly pleased to see it again.

Whomp bomp flip flop slam dance screw

There's a poem that begins "Thirty-five feet deep in the wet language...". I can't find it online, and I can't remember who wrote it.

It goes on about the poet's love being buried in words and turning blue, but since she doesn't love him back he can't do anything but pile more words on top of her. It's a better poem than I'm making it sound, and it's driving me nuts not being able to put my hands on the text... I posted in greatpoets, but no one's answered yet.

Anyone know it? I'd be terribly pleased to see it again.