Nonsense-like poems with a political tint |
The cracks of wit, can never skit The cantered wins of tie The scrim old win, the fat old bin The glade, the roaring lawn The vile shin, the knackered rope The fist yes barren, the rope unsoak A vile wind, the verdant pin An earth said warn, the gallows slin An earth made cry, of others like The maid that creams, the general's fly As oceans wed, the trees of war A mile slicks, the lawns of raw Upended trees, and tendons sling The rancid bead of ethnic sting And lice benath, the mortal croan The vestige yet, of raised new bone Can summon up the war To kill the king and all his heat The memories sit on verbal greek And blow the wind on every gourd The mild wean of penguin ford That cracks the wing, lie certain feed On earth the gang, the raised old geese Lie searching ford the roar... A surgeon general raised his hat That blank beneath the mauling vat Of red wine blood and talent skin Like suckers wet, the rancid fling Of cocks and tice, the raiding ford Blumish yet, Lakes killed and fawn The yes-men peat, the sallows cord The weapon flin', the gasket moored Lay such beneath the talent flow The grade of bent, the grade of low And ask the wing on purp-brine sod How yes, the bring of taut old stow Could ever flinch, in mortal preed The lilac scone, on Fenchurch lead the raking saucers done.... |