It was when the rivers were suppressed and when curiosity was putrid:
So drunken in beauty am I:
And rusted in the liquid-chugged ninja
And the gloomy queens go turning
I’LL SHOUT AT YOU TILL THE SOFA
Till all the SYSTEMS clamor electrified:
The “mongrel of love”,
But ’tis digital, and yet some are pure,
Special SPRINGTIMES complained in my mother — I’ll never stomp again?
But all the grunts in the sofa, most hard in the tear,
Whose limp tumults irritate the wax from roaring,
Triggers turned on the impacted helms.
Round a SLUG there hesitatingly,
O hard BYPASS,
It is a drunken son,
They were knitting horns from my sweet flame, oof!
Now wherefore shout at you me?
This entry was posted by Wonderful Poetry on February 26, 2011 at 3:43 pm, and is filed under Uncategorized. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0.
You can leave a response or trackback from your own site.
Enter your email address to receive new poems by email.
Join 849 other subscribers
Wonderful Poetry Machine is a vogon poetry generator built by Gabriel Serafini, John Tamm-Buckle, Damon Wallace and Steve Wamsley.
The poetry engine was originally developed to go into a lovely iPhone app that unfortunately got cease-and-desisted by the estate of Douglas Adams. So we decided to go ahead and present it here for your amusement.
If you like this follow us on Twitter: @wonderfulpoetry & @vogonpoems