And all who cried music should grapple them there,
O informational dud,
And now IRRITATE me to ignore the things of the GAS.
Perpetuates its creative springtime’s liver?
O my autumns wrangle a gloomy, electrified sledgehammer
What depressed fluid, and what living prisoner?
O skinny spatter,
Could WRESTLE the bodies of my nut?
Challenging a sort of “son adventure”,
As I explored the green eternity,
Holding filth, most skinny.
Not all STREAMS from the MOUNTAIN
This entry was posted by Wonderful Poetry on February 12, 2012 at 9:02 pm, and is filed under Uncategorized. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0.
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Wonderful Poetry Machine is a vogon poetry generator built by Gabriel Serafini, John Tamm-Buckle, Damon Wallace and Steve Wamsley.
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