1He bent right down to pick up his valise
2the answer is they could be twins full-grown
3upon his old oak chest he cuts his cheese
4one gathers rosebuds or grows old alone
5How it suprised us pale grey underlings
6were pots graffiti’d over by a slave
7the learning linguist cameramaniac sings
8as sleeping-bags the silent landscape pave
9When dried the terrapin can naught express
10and starve the sniveling baby like a dog
11while homeward thirsts to each quenched glass say yes
12Bard I adore your endless monologue
13the Taj Mahal has trinkets spice and gum
14yet from the City’s pie pulled not one plum
← OPEN dataBase