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wSaturday, May 27, 2006


1924

Get the party stir-fried
And open up your ventilator
Never mind the ponchos
Just aggregate your mental states
Climb into the mezzanine
And redirect your lablemaker
For a pinch of semaphore
Everybody get a caber
Nothing on the whistle stop

Let's compile maybe now
Into a firmer retrogression
For the sinking apple stage
To depose what looms in green
On the left of the counter
Where the marbles are stacked
And the lady who loves you
Has left something sacred

I camped on that payload
For many a fortnight
But nepotism robbed me
Of my little birthright
And that's how it happened
To trouble the compound,
The whist left unfinished
The perms still in foil


posted by Jordan #