1181

Feeding time at the ice cream kit burglar's
Nincompoop overtime frame-up allegro. We give
The chicken some goddam butterscotch and
The truth is, I am the exception who can
Be kept down on the farm having seen Paris.
I listening close to the no criticize me
Potamus batallion, it drives up its shares
With a clang clang of plausibly deniable
Feelings of release, its compounds neatly
Split in two and back to front, milk boding
What it does (motherhood? theft of service
From a resentful nature? Humpty isn't an egg,
You know) and then the order-out-of-chaos
Miserabilists get out of their heads a sec.
That was fun. They don't ever do it again.