1From playboy Chance the nymph no longer flees
2his nasal ecstasy beats best Cologne
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4and empty cages show life’s bird has flown
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7proud death quite il-le-gi-ti-mate-ly stings
8for burning bushes never fish forgave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11and played their mountain croquet jungle chess
12One misses cricket hearth and croaking frog
13poor reader smile before your lips go numb
14the best of all things to an end must come
← OPEN dataBase