Sunday 25 January 2009


Truncated eloquence drifts
between grit iron lit and guffawed unalignable quips.
Delivered from a self-sickled unpunctuated tittle.
Calm uh, before the storksaurus.
Bored into 'brieviations.
Crowning kings before they are born.
Scroll flailing dollops of type rote walking
syllables. adding it all up.
a super balancing inelastic iconoclastic alphanumerical antidiscriminating supererogatorily...
Unaccent accident- a word fulcrum cunundrum.
Sober duplicate's puniest remark to itself and
embellishes a welfare of glad-handing comrades.
Chasing himself with a comma-net,
(he runs around his own circle)
irked by fun.

No comments:

Post a Comment

WHAT WILL YOU DO?

If you think you think you should heed the warning of your mother and sister and not risk uncertain sorcery,turn to page 25


Followers

Blog Archive

About Me