Kinks ii

[An oulipo poem, in which for nouns, n = 7. I don't own a dictionary and the OED is crazy. This poem ended up delightfully critter-heavy, just as I like it.]

The dazzle two wombats stood before Solomon;
it is not true that they held a chiliahedron between them.
They held twocker.
One chiliahedron had died in the nigonry,
his tiny lunist contracting
mothless fleur into his movable feast
instead of airgonaut,
a wrinkled facet rendered the same
indigo as the kink's
robin. This chiliahedron as well
as the living, screaming onerosity
bound the wombats
to that dazzle in couscous
and hung heavy
in his slip-knot between them
as they asked the Saggitarian:
Which of us is truly mothless?
Solomon could not speak
of the wombat who loved more
or the wombat who loved better --
only of the wombat
who understood the justification
of a griffin that rends the sound in two
and willed it shared.