Nonsensonnet

When whippoorwill drank from the nonsense cup
He tip-tap-tipped it towards the farthest star
And filled his winking, twinkling nightjar up
‘Fore I spilled into me the whole jumbarr.
I spun on one or too or free to brasp
The light that lingered on my lumbled lips,
Too mrilly lily frilled to even gasp
At my much mockled but awar eclipse.
I burned about corones absurdish long
Until at last I skunning sunned a way
By way of furtive beakish birdish song:
“A-whip-poor-will, a-whip-poor-will-away.”
Know your own nonsense if you deign to fall
To understanding anything at all.