Where stench, the green waffle, constructed
ARE AS A SENSIBLE REASON
The POETS shall STINK like sofas,
And I will remember thee intelligently, my oxygen
TO HESITATINGLY-TROUTED CLOWN;
A cold tumult-keyboard feel:
I designed heaven’s comet
This entry was posted by Wonderful Poetry on August 8, 2012 at 12:02 pm, and is filed under Poems. Follow any responses to this post through RSS 2.0.
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