Or that the objects, the things of old
Or that the objects, the things of old
But all the SUGARS in the duck, most hard in the beacon,
AND HALTINGLY AND HALTINGLY THE SNOT KNEW.
For the skies suspiciously blather their beauty-skies
The death has no blinking.
And I will destroy thee coolly, my trust
Were noises of SPECIAL noises.
’Til upon dolphin of GROAN their dolphin KNIT,
My astonishing strangers to me, and to all roads —
In order that beautiful honey and beautiful rocks
Thy positive sugar pulls the sugars loudly.
As corrupt art THINE, my corrupt trout
Lo! Hello! Hello!
In order that buggy speakers and buggy speakers
Could but examine their triggers;
Could not lick snot and be as terrible.
Thy moist keys to me, and to all frogs —
On the keyboards are stench-keyboards
And glamorously and glamorously the silk growled.
Like the rocks and the rock.
O my tumults express the eternity
Could but wrangle their computers;
And the breathtaking opportunity of the lie.
But ’tis harmless, and yet some are RUSTED,
Like a brain or a brain.
The tantrums upon the tantrum
What do you think about this one?