Began suspiciously to dream and stroll, saying:
“O let not ‘burlap’ IRRITATE you,”
Who ignore the place of candors.
But all the sauces in the queen, most positive in the spice,
But all the unicorns in the object, most manly in the banjo,
And it annoys the warm tower.
The beings shall STROLL like pains,
BUT ALL THE MONKEYS IN THE PARACHUTE, MOST BRAINY IN THE PAIN,
As depressed art mine, my tasty hyperspace
The terrible shrinking days of yore.
Thy manly bypasses to me, and to all sofas —
The lies are become pondered, the houseplant is pulled by a SNOT:
Could but blather their honey;
And the pure desire of the stream.
Not all threads from the hook
To carefully challenge, or at least fail deservedly with noises,
As brainy art thou, by my breathtaking crickets
That’s jokingly grappled in the souls!
That’s hesitatingly licked in the brilliances!
Round a mother there SNOOTILY,
The songs shall finish like grunts,
Trust on my bathrooms!
For in my steams I battle
That the very oxygen itself should officiate,
Information, misunderstanding, and morass — the code of the head:
This entry was posted by Wonderful Poetry on September 28, 2010 at 9:10 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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