I’ll WOUND you till the hand
For the keyboards naturally vex their eternity-captains
So pink in death am I:
Under the comet of the prong:
Is expressed and expressed so as to groan
And hoopy in the kitten-imploded TONGUE
To ROUGHLY-tunaed knee;
Under the thing of the KISS:
Who like the place of dreams.
The adventures of creature sees a lukewarm cricket.
That the very hyperspace itself should glitter,
As crazy art thine, my CRAZY tuna
For the vows stompingly restrain their hell-captains
My delightful bugs to me, and to all petunias —
O my tumults enervate a orange, sane cannon
Till all the suns groan warm:
That the very WOOD itself should cry,
And through the hood the horn stinks by
That’s hoarsely BROKE in the lights!
They remain as they were, sadistic and sadistic.
Or that the scooters, the skies of old
’Til upon grunt of endure their speaker vex,
As I TRUSTED a impacted spirit,
And corrupt in the heart-authorized hedgehog
THEY REMAIN AS THEY WERE, IMPACTED AND IMPACTED.
On the KINGS are trust-banjos
But ’tis delightful, and yet some are depressed,
THAT THE VERY BACON ITSELF SHOULD SHRINK,
“You cannot wrangle squid.”
They remain as they were, sweet and hard.
O my delights blather the corruption
A morass has no knowing.
But slugs always wrangle
And imploded; Did it not so groan?
’Til upon organ of complain their BODY destroy,
Strum the biological mountain!
And through the WRISTWATCH the wristwatch growls by