Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Poem 116: Smoke signals

Let mean hot toothy mare edge off true minds
add meat impediments
Love snot love
that altar swine: it altar rage unfinds.
Orb ends with thee remover, Tory move.
Oh know it is a never-fix, said Mark,
That looks on 10 pests. Andy's never shaken.
It is this tar to ever re-wandering bark
Who's worth sun, own although his sight beat taken.
Love snot x fuel
thorough seal lips, sand-cheeks
With thin his bending sick ill scum, puss, scum.
Love alter snot
with this brief our sand-weeks:
Butt-bears sit out even toothy edge off doom.

If Thisbe err, or end up omni-prooved,
Aye, never it.
Norn, Noman never loved.







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