Fitting Words

Saturday, July 03, 2004

A Nonsense

v. 1.0

1.1 .v

The lakes are coming

In numbers shaped of red.

The aroid pintful's humming

The flutest ones are said

To take apart of speech.

Fusing knots of sand, they're

In treason to the beach.

Would it not be fair,

It asks for wood to plane

And makes a wooden knot be there

Two planets X, to see a gain,

Enjoin areas' heroes again. Ne'er

Thinks: this would end... or

Might refer niche-carved cherubs,

There on a ledge, and ere 'e saw,

Ring-like flying clubs.

To curassow, he'll abhor

The point is wattle a

Cur, a sow, and he'll labour

On again, off again, dear.

The carp inters or opes (see

For your self) 'is wine,

As sour as any I drop. See,

You'll find that autopsine.

The lakes are coming

In numbers shaped of red.

The aroid pintful's humming

The flutest ones are said

To take a part of speech.

Few sing notes of sand there

In trees unto the beech.

Wood it knot be fair,

It tasks forward too-plain

And makes a wooden knot be there

To plan its ecstasy, again

In joinery as he rose again. Near

Thinks this wooden door

Might refurnish carved chair, rubs

There on a legendary soaring

Like flying clubs.

To cure a sow, he'll labour.

The point is what'll ere

Cure a sow and heal a boar,

Onager - 'n' of ague - and ere

The carpenter's autopsy.

For your selfish swine,

A sower as any eye drops, see.

You'll find that aught opes eyn.

top

¶ 9:41 am