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by Johann Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Nonsense · #2062766
Vibrant nonsense-like poetry
This is the night mail:
flinging your order for ten pounds of morter
as fast as a legend, suprises the bellun [bell on jibbet]
The caucus race filling the bleed [expanding breeze]

The life of the sorted, the purpose new rack
A dungeon of forest, the new hemming tack
The giants of solace, the kipples of black
A new hungry thomas, a bible of flap

Ten metres in goris, the lions speak back [chess world]
A virtue of lawning, an accomplice who flaps
A name in the porridge, a rape-seed of back
An' all the earth a microbe load
In the truth the bet, can never spin
For who can bare, to be re-mmet?


The layers of filth, deride the old milf
Paling as others cum by
The France of the letter saw everyone better
Quicken the foresteps of mine
The lemon old fart, the fury of bark
Apes the ungodly new sin

A bale of tanks, whipped Henry Old-Bank
Livesome as curious deed
An ape of the rate, saw your constable faint
Parsnips upon his old deem

A lucky flute, left Morris in-suit
The gilling of murmours lined wine
Ocean, forfit and bide....


A parnsip said why, do you colour my bye
Killing the forested white
The layers of grid, expell the old mid
Ship-shake and fawning old bead

The glue of the seat, enters everyones heat
The mooring of vegetable slick


..The custard of yheast, made public the reece
A goblin of fawning cracked who
The Marple won drink of lemon an' sleek
Robin Hood duchies felt wold
An iron-stick line, merged pigeon an' fine
Autors and carry on sick...

The male pigeon fly, gourged sacpula's tie
Racing the forfeit of reed
Alone in the spy, the gorgon felt why
He creamed all the dunne in the wine

Over the fent, the green hungry vent
Merge fillings, new cancer and dyed
The lepons of tongue, outraged the new bun
Coursing threw pairing old deer


The universe is violent, full of manic life
The tendrils click and others malt
The baying greed has light
A module fling on arrow verbs
The rancid clue has dung
A mailed fit on earth made shit
The grimlin has no bun...

True Nosense

When Satan knocks on your door
The power of mred comes willing the poor
Like dailing old rhine, the mortals ling sign
Raining as wet as the blik

Raising the stakes

A violent man called every ban
On the populace, hero and mould
Light seventy-three decks, old ralligus get
The mine-ships moon onwards like floored
Eight shillings of deed, the cancerous bead
That snacks on the forest of brawn
Anal fisting of leg, lies stupid on bed
The mailing fisson cricks wide

Unknown Pleasures

The rips of the gel, hold Manchester bell
Lied creed of the Forest of more
Six welling old bets, astonish the flep
Of gangsters new railing old plit

An afterthought white, lips carding old fight
Crayling in the bane of the wood....

An arsenic old dad, gave numerous grab
Raping the monestary's sin.
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