Your placid boils are phasing like a smouldering phlent,
And yet I cannot woo you.
You are daft at conkering, acid in cry, welp at klent,
But this is Oysters and I'm here to school
Not shuffle.
Damn you, not to shuffle.
-
poem 891
@ 2009-03-26 – 23:16:45
0 Trackbacks to poem 891
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