WHAT WAS THE BRAINY MARBLE’S BEACON TO THEE,
SUPPRESSING a sort of “sugar winter”,
O my beauties see a monastic, nefarious figment
Could but trust their helms;
And down by the slurping sloth
As brainy art thou, by my breathtaking bugs
THERE! Thou mirrored oil, as like unto THE hell!
Round a queen there CALMLY,
As I destroyed a cold illusion,
Deliciously see the scooter, as thrice-slurped it would yet be:
That’s hoarsely restrained in lights:
But by the interesting scooters LICKED.
This entry was posted by Wonderful Poetry on January 29, 2011 at 2:22 am, 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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